The Hunter and the Hunted
by Amynion
Summary: "Cut off the head and the body will founder"... And so the master of the leviathan fell. With his demise Dean and a newly human Castiel were dragged into Purgatory. Now they fight to survive in that fetid grey wasteland, searching for a way home. Back in our world Sam is prepared to tear each realm apart to find his brother and his friend... (Follow on from Another Angel Down)
1. For the Torn Down

Note: Well here it is, the next part of my 'verse (I've decided to call it "The Hallowing of Pain" :D) and the follow on from Another Angel Down. *Laughs long and hard re her intention to have it posted before s8 aired* but better late than never right? So now I know what Tolkien meant when he said "the tale grew in the telling"... there are nearly 50,000 words to come. Filled with angsty goodness. I hope you'll join me for the ride :) Quotes are from Greg Laswell's "Comes and Goes".

**The Hunter and the Hunted**

**Chapter 1 – For the Torn Down**

_This one's for the torn down  
The experts at the fall  
Come on friends get up now  
You're not alone at all_

_Thunderous hooves were at their back, there was the blast of a horn, and then arrows split the air. They ran side by side, exhaustion weighing their limbs down, until an arrow sunk into flesh and one fell. There was only time enough for shouts of "I love you" and "I'll find you" before he was set upon and she ran away…_

-oOo-

Two bedraggled figures were huddled around a small fire. It wasn't often they risked starting one, the smoke and flames would draw unwanted attention. But they found an alcove in a cliff side that would help to hide it… and they were cold, bitterly cold.

Dean and Castiel couldn't tell how long they had been in purgatory. There was no night and day here. There was pitch black darkness and a lightening of the sky that washed the world into a grey wasteland. But there was no regularity to it. The darkness gave way apparently when it felt like it. Sometimes lasting hours, sometimes lasting days… but the passing of time was impossible to gauge. Dean eventually stopped trying to keep track of it and Castiel had never bothered in the first place.

Of course it was hard to keep track of anything really when you were constantly alert to the slightest movement in the depths of the trees. More often than not it meant you would be running for your life moments later. Or fighting… they had fashioned rudimentary weapons from sharp rocks and branches. It was not nearly enough to tackle half of purgatory's denizens, and so running was usually the first option. It left them tired, this running and constant watchfulness. Purgatory seemed to wear on them, drag them down… but they kept on going.

"We can't keep going like this man". Dean held his jacket tightly around himself, the waver in his voice giving away how cold he felt. "We have to come up with a plan or something".

Dean was sure that Sam was working tirelessly to get them out. He could imagine his brother hunched over his laptop in the small hours, surrounded by piles of books and fuelled by coffee. But time was screwy between hell and earth; it could be the same here. They could have been running for years while Sam turned a few pages. So Dean didn't want to bet on one horse. If there was something to done from their end, he would rather be doing it. An eternity of running didn't really appeal.

"I'm not sure what…" Castiel trailed off, his eyes were absorbed entirely by the dance of the flames in front him. He also held his arms tightly around himself, but the former angel was unlucky enough to have been trapped in purgatory wearing only a t-shirt.

"Dude, do you want my jacket? I swear you're turning blue".

"I'm fine". Castiel watched the fire intently.

Dean turned his gaze outward at the trees momentarily. Thankfully it was light and any creatures would be easily seen. Then he looked back at Castiel, wondering how to phrase his question, wanting to tread lightly. "Hey, um… you kinda had purgatory in you that time, the souls anyway, did it give you any ideas on how we could get out?"

Castiel raised his wide eyes to Dean then. A haunted look saying he was recalling _that time_, which is why Dean didn't want to mention it. "I… I learned nothing good from them". His eyes flicked back to the fire. The former angel seemed deep in thought before he opened his mouth again. "But… there must be an end to purgatory, a place where doors can open. Heaven and hell are finite, as is earth itself; this place must have its boundaries too. There are places where realms meet, places of weakness between them, the devil's gate, the cage…" The more Castiel went on the more excited he seemed to be about the possibility of getting out. "If we reach the boundary maybe we can find a door, it's been done before… Eleanor". Castiel said her name like it physically hurt to do so, his excitement stalled and he fell silent, eyes lost in the fire again.

"That's good, if you think there's a real chance we can get out then lets go with it". Dean ignored the mention of Eleanor Visyak. They had enough to be depressed about without the reminder of Castiel's actions bringing them down. And the possibility of escape had just presented itself. Finally they could _do something_, and this was reason for celebration in Dean's eyes. "Ok, so we just pick a direction and walk?"

The question seemed to bring Castiel out of his dark thoughts. "As far as I can gather, that's all we can do".

"Great, sounds like a plan".

Castiel said nothing in return. A companionable silence fell between the two… they had known each other too long and been through too much for silences to be awkward. Still, Dean felt the need to talk, to keep his mind off the cold and the terror this place held.

"Hey Cas, first thing I'm going to do when we get out of here is eat a burger this big". He raised his hands to an impossible height. "And pie… God, what I would do for a piece of pie right now".

"I don't think my father heard you. And if he did I don't think he would provide any baked goods".

"Well if he knew what I'd do for some baked goods he might change his mind… So what are you going to do when we land topside?"

Castiel looked thoughtful for a moment and then wiped at the dirt on his arms. "I will get in a hot shower and never get out again".

"Good choice dude. I'll jump in the shower right after my burger… and after you've done with it, obviously". Dean coughed awkwardly.

"Keeping clean was never a problem when I was an angel. Being human is so messy…" Castiel sighed and stared into the fire. "Everything about being human is so messy. Killing these purgatory beasts, it's all hacking and blood and bone. If I was an angel I could burn them away with a touch. If I was an an-"

"Yeah, and if I was the tooth fairy… Quit talking like that Cas". Dean was quick to derail Castiel's train of thought. They had been down that track before and Dean knew the look on the fallen angel's face. He was only torturing himself. It seemed his favourite pastime of late.

"But you never were the tooth fairy, and you were never meant to be the tooth fairy".

"And ain't I glad of it. Tutus don't suit me". Dean tried to catch Castiel's eye line. Apart from his moments of melancholy Castiel seemed to be doing well adapting to humanity. He'd got the basics down… eating, sleeping, washing, shaving. They wouldn't be letting him loose with an FBI badge any time soon, but that would come eventually. "You good Cas?"

Finally Castiel looked up at him with a small smile and a nod. Then he quirked a mischievous eyebrow. "Maybe if you had one in black…"

"Nu uh, no tutus". Dean returned the smile and shivered. "Ok, I'm going to try and get some shut eye. Keep watch and we'll switch later, then we can get marching".

Dean was eager to be away, but he was bone tired and it might be a while before they found somewhere safe enough to sleep again. He lay down and cushioned his head with his arms. It was far from comfortable, but the way he felt he could fall asleep standing up. Dean was getting used to it, they had done without comfort for some time now… There was no comfort to be found in purgatory.

-oOo-

Castiel watched Dean lie down and drift off. He was glad Dean seemed hopeful now, but in truth he didn't know if the plan would work. On the occasions a door to purgatory had opened a ritual was being conducted on the other side. The memories of his own dark ritual haunted Castiel, the cold combined with it to make him shudder… Something told the former angel they weren't going to be lucky enough to just come across a door and a ritual. Maybe they would be able to find some way of opening one from this side. It was a very big maybe. But he wondered at the creatures of purgatory. Thus far they had come across the base bestial sort… but there were higher thinking monsters out there that might be able to help. There were vampires for one, and Eleanor… Castiel sighed, the more he didn't want to think about Eleanor the more he seemed to end up thinking about her.

Something else he thought of often… the pills. The ones he had started taking for his broken foot, and now took because… well, he needed to take them. It had stopped making sense some time ago. Castiel could walk alright now; a limp only became evident when he overdid things. Steph, the vet who assisted on their last werewolf case, gave the former angel's foot an x-ray. It showed things hadn't healed perfectly, but he wasn't exactly crippled. All the running in purgatory qualified as overdoing things, so he relied on the pills more than ever, they kept him going. Of course Dean would have torn him a new one if he knew Castiel was still taking the drugs. So Castiel was sneaky about it, he would go for a 'bathroom break' and slip a few, or wait until Dean was asleep…

As Dean's breathing lapsed into the even, light, huffs of sleep Castiel's pill bottle started burning a hole in his pocket. Once he made sure Dean was away he leapt to his feet and rushed into the undergrowth, making sure he was deep enough to be well out of Dean's line of sight should he wake. Some part of Castiel warned that he was supposed to be keeping watch, but the call of the pills was louder. Fumbling slightly the former angel pulled the bottle out and worked at the lid like an over eager puppy going at a can of dog food. He shook a couple of pills out and quickly swallowed them down. Then despondently Castiel realised the bottle no longer gave a comforting rattle. Those pills were his last. He had tried to ration them out and make them last… but this was inevitable, he knew this day would come. The bottle was empty, and there would be no more re-fills in purgatory. Involuntarily Castiel let out a wrecked sob, how was he supposed to continue without the pills? He _needed_ them! Roughly he shoved the empty bottle back into his pocket, maybe just the feel of it there would offer some relief… Then he froze, hearing a rustle in the bushes. _Shitshitshit_… _Dean!_

-oOo-

Dean was in a warm bed, Lisa by his side. The early morning sun's warmth caressed him through the curtains. Their dog sniffed at his outstretched hand, dangling over the side of the bed… Wait, dog? They didn't have a dog.

Dean cracked his eyes open to see a beast snuffling at his hand. It was a great hound, with matted fur, dark glowing red eyes, and sharp teeth. Dean could feel its fetid breath against his skin. Ice ran down his spine, should he stay still and hope the creature would lose interest and move on? Or should he jump up and risk it immediately going for his throat? The monster's head suddenly shot up after hearing a branch crack in the undergrowth. Ears erect, it focussed its attention elsewhere. Dean took the opportunity to slide his hand across to a sharpened piece of rock, but before he got the chance to use it Castiel came barrelling out from between the trees with a yell.

"Get away from him!" The former angel swung a hefty branch at the beast. It dodged out of the way with a growl and bared its teeth at Castiel.

Dean was on his feet by now and heading for the two of them, but the beast lunged at Castiel first. It snapped its slathering jaws at the former angel… and he was ready for it. Castiel took a swing worthy of any baseball pro. The creature's skull gave way beneath his blow, and then Castiel hit it again… and again. Its lifeless body fell to the ground with a satisfying thud. Still Castiel kept going; flecks of blood flew through the air at his violent barrage. He only stopped after hearing Dean's angry voice.

"Where the hell were you?! I thought you were meant to be keeping watch?" Dean glared at Castiel.

The former angel dropped the branch and stepped away from the fallen monster. He seemed to shrink under the spotlight of Dean's scrutiny.

"I had to… use the bathroom". Castiel looked away from him sheepishly.

"Geez Cas, you should have woken me up. That thing could have bitten through my throat before I even realised it was there… Just don't do anything like that again".

"I'm sorry Dean".

Dean tried hard not to let those words get to him as they had before. "Ok, it's ok… We need to get moving, no doubt that thing has attracted a bit of attention". He moved forward to stamp out what was left of their fire. "You'll just have to wait for the next safe spot for a bit of shut eye".

"I'll be fine".

"Ok, then pick a direction and put your best foot forward". Dean made a note to make sure Castiel got his sleep. He seemed to be taking a page out of Dean's book with the 'I'm fine' crap. Dean could see through it, and he could tell there was something off with the former angel. Sure this place was wearing on them both, but Castiel seemed to have aged while Dean slept. The slump in his shoulders, the anxious look of his eyes and the short disinterested way of speaking… it was worrying. Then there was the way Castiel whaled on that monster. It reminded Dean of his own outburst against the Impala after losing John. It wasn't a good sign…

-oOo-

The two of them set out at a good pace with Dean marching ahead and Castiel keeping up behind. When the former angel started flagging they would stop for a rest and set out again as soon as they could. How long they walked neither could tell… but mercifully their path was mostly trouble free. They had been attacked by a couple of large bat like creatures, and another great hound… Castiel had called it one of the mormolykeia, not that Dean cared as long as they ended up dead.

Castiel's pace was slowing once again when Dean turned to ask if he was ok.

"I'm fine… I just need to rest for a moment. I'm ok, but Dean… do you feel as if we're treading the same ground we've walked before?" Castiel sat down on a fallen tree as he took in their surroundings.

"Oh yeah, look there's my favourite rock, I named him Sylvester". Dean gave Castiel a withering look. "No Cas, there's nothing I find familiar about this god-forsaken wasteland. All I know is we've been walking a straight line, so we can't be going in circles or whatever…"

"Dean". Castiel said his name quietly with a sense of urgency and shot to his feet. The former angel's eyes were wide as he looked over Dean's shoulder. Dean whirled around to follow his gaze.

A pair of yellow eyes stared back from the shadows.

As the creature took a step forward they could see it resembled a wolf… a wolf as large as a small horse. Its coat was as jet black as the surrounding darkness, though it made no move to attack.

"Who are you?" Castiel asked, Dean looked at him as if he were mad talking to the creature, but the former angel could sense a degree of intelligence behind those eyes… Something he had not seen in the rampant single minded beasts so far.

To Dean's surprise the beast replied. Its words were half growled, but the voice was unmistakably female. "I am Voxifera… and you are the angel that nearly destroyed us all".

Castiel's grip tightened on the branch he had brought with him. The wolf noticed. "Put down your weapons, I mean you no harm… not yet anyway".

"And that's supposed to make us feel better?" Dean's eyes narrowed.

"If I wanted to kill you I could have done so many times before now. I have been following you for a while… Did you notice your path thus far has been an easy one? I have been the one protecting you".

"Well you've done a piss poor job of it. Those bat things and the mormy… morly… the big dog, they attacked us". Dean pointed out, tripped up only by a minor note of pronunciation.

"The 'bat things' were beyond my reach… and regretfully Hecate's bitches are, shall we say, outside of my influence somewhat".

Dean's suspicious expression hadn't changed. "Ok Voxifera, who are you really? And why the hell are you following us?"

The wolf took in a deep breath, levelling its stare at Dean. She seemed to be weighing up how much to reveal to them both. "I am old… very old, you have surely met my kind before. They have been reduced to taking the form of dumb dogs in your world. But once they were all as great as this wolf you see before you. I am a skinwalker… though I have long forgotten my human face; I have no need of it down here. Word reached me of the hunter and his angel walking our realm… There are creatures here that speak of Dean Winchester as if _he_ were the monster hiding in _their_ closet. I wished to see this man of legend… and I do not believe my interest in the angel needs explaining. When you are as old as I am these things break the monotony…"

She stepped forward then and circled each man, taking in their scent, measuring them up. "You do not belong here. You are living, and you are not of our kind. Your coming is like the falling of small stones that bring about an avalanche. Some here may embrace it; most will want to be rid of you. As for myself, I have come to see which way the stones are falling… And so you have my interest. Do not lose it, for that would be very dangerous". She seemed to give a wolfish grin then. "Tell me, little ones, what are you doing running so far and so fast?"

"We seek the boundaries of purgatory". Castiel answered.

Voxifera laughed with a rough rasping bark. "Purgatory has no boundaries. We might be outside and alongside the other realms, but we occupy the places amid the places… ever moving, ever changing. Some think purgatory itself to be alive. If she likes you well enough she will make your path straight and true… if not you will wander her labyrinth endlessly. You cannot simply walk and find the edge. It may be right next to you tomorrow. It may be a hundred leagues from here, and then become a thousand leagues when you walk a hundred. Seek something else… or seek it another way".

Dean's patience was wearing thin. "How then? If you know so much why not tell us? How do we get out?"

"I know much, but I do not know that much. If we creatures were granted such knowledge purgatory would be a very empty place indeed".

"Great. Fantastic. So what are we supposed to do? Sit here and stare at each other until the end of eternity?" Dean threw his hands up in the air.

"I had expected more from the great Dean Winchester, but come, do not despair. I have no such knowledge, but there is another… a being older than myself, maybe even as old as the Leviathans. He has not been seen or spoken to in a long, long time, for he makes his home in a mire none dare cross. I can take you to it".

At hearing this Dean looked at the wolf with suspicion once again. "Why? What's so hard about crossing a swamp?"

"Only those free from sin can easily cross. The weight of your sins and your guilt will pull you down to its depths… I'm sure you can imagine there are few without blood on their hands here". The grin returned. "Who knows what is on the other side… Maybe you will find your boundary, maybe there is a gateway to Heaven. I only know that the First Beast is out there. If you wish to see him, follow me".

She turned tail to leave then, pausing momentarily to look over her shoulder and see whether they were coming. Dean looked to Castiel, a questioning expression on his face. An icy hand had gripped Castiel's heart upon hearing of the swamp and sin… he was sure he would sink like a stone if he went near it. But this was all they had to go on and he would not deny Dean a chance at freedom. So he gave a nod and started walking after Voxifera. "What other option do we have?" was whispered to Dean as he passed by.

-oOo-

The two of them followed the shadowy figure of the wolf. It felt like they had been walking for leagues. Rest stops had become more frequent… as Castiel started lagging again Dean slowed to talk to him.

"Are you ok? Is it your foot?"

"No… no, I just need to rest. I'm just tired". Castiel sat down again, wrapping his arms tight around his body.

Dean noticed the former angel was breathing hard, he seemed pale and held himself tightly, as if in pain and trying to hide it. Dean had seen that one before, during the process of getting Castiel back on his feet after the injury. Dean wasn't buying this 'just tired' crap, but he also knew Castiel had a thing about showing weakness. He didn't want to be useless. Dean could sympathise… all too often he would put up a façade and put on a show of being fine. So if Castiel wanted to pretend he was ok then Dean would play along and just do what he could to make things easy on the former angel.

"Ok, we'll set up camp here, you can get some sleep". They were following the line of a rock face; it seemed as good a place to stop as any. And true to her word Voxifera's presence seemed to be keeping the beasts of purgatory off their back.

Dean turned back to tell the wolf they were stopping here and cursed as he found her gone. She must have kept going as they stalled behind. "Hey! Voxifera!"

"Don't shout Dean… the creatures will hear you". Castiel taut voice chastised him.

"I want the creatures to hear me… one particular creature anyway. Where the hell has she gone?"

A high pitched scream came in answer. The two went rigid and prepared to run, but then the bloodied figure of the werewolf casually walked out from the undergrowth.

"A ghoul was getting a little too close". She said by way of explanation. Red stained her sharp teeth and glistened down the front of her fur.

Dean shook his head and relaxed. "Right… uh, well we're going to stop here and rest up a while".

"Very well…" Voxifera circled and lay down, looking for all the world like a terribly oversized guard dog. She kept her eyes on the trees, ears pricked, ever watchful.

All she could hear however was the muttered curses of Dean as he tried to start a fire without the use of his lighter. It had run out long ago and now he was left with more traditional (and frustrating) methods…

Eventually Dean managed to get a fire going; they both lay down next to it, taking a chance on leaving the wolf as lookout. Castiel closed his eyes but it wasn't long before the angel shot up and dashed into the trees after muttering a hastened "Gotta pee".

Dean cracked a concerned eye open and watched him go. Usually Castiel would announce rather formally that he had to visit the bathroom. Dean had said to him on one occasion "Geez Cas, do you see any rooms out here? Let alone baths? Just say you gotta pee man". Of course Castiel stuck to his formal ways. That he gave in now was just another reason to worry.

-oOo-

Castiel got as far into the trees as he could before resting his hand against a sturdy trunk and bending over to be sick. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before taking a couple steps more and sinking to his knees. Involuntarily Castiel found himself reaching into his pocket and taking out the empty pill bottle. His fingers wrapped around it almost in a caressing fashion. He would give anything just to hear it rattle again with the comforting sound of his pills.

Withdrawal was setting in; this borrowed body was slowly succumbing to tremors, cramps and chills… Now the vomiting. He hid as much of it as he could from Dean. He supposed he wouldn't be able to hide forever. Castiel's eyes welled up. To go through this normally would be hard enough. But to be forced to go cold turkey in purgatory with nothing… and hiding from Dean when he just wanted to cry out for help… It was excruciating.

Castiel wiped at his eyes, he shoved the pill bottle back in his pocket and tried to gather himself together before returning to camp. He had been gone too long already. Then getting to his feet he turned to find himself facing Voxifera. The wolf stood watching him quietly.

"You're sick". She said. It was a statement of fact, with no accusation in her eyes.

"Don't tell Dean… please". Castiel looked at the ground, he felt caught in the act.

"What Dean knows or does not know is not my concern".

"Thank you…"

"You realise you will not make it through the mire alive?" The wolf spoke plainly without emotion.

Castiel took in a harsh breath and met her eyes with a creased face as if holding back a sob. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I prefer people to know when I am leading them to their death…A monster I might be to have ended up here, but I take no joy in cruelty or deception". Though speaking plainly a hint of sadness seemed to creep into her voice. "The Righteous Man may make it, but your sins are great… greater than many who I have seen founder and fail. And ailing as you are…"

The former angel looked at Voxifera with renewed determination. "I _know_ this, but I will not leave him to cross alone".

She took a step closer and met his eyes with a fierce look. "And then when you run to your death with open arms and leave him in this place alone?"

The confrontation was sapping the energy from Castiel. He held out a hand to lean against a tree. "My place is at his side until I die… if that comes in the swamp, if it comes later, I accept it… I deserve it".

"If you insist on crossing that is the sort of talk the swamp will prey on. You deserve nothing. Do not let it tell you that you do…" Voxifera seemed to notice his weariness; she sidled up alongside Castiel and indicated he should lean against her. "Now come, no doubt your Winchester will have started fretting by now".

Castiel twisted a hand into her thick fur and reluctantly accepted her aid in walking back to camp.

Once settled back down beside the fire Castiel had started shivering and was unable to stop though he tried. Wordlessly Dean got to his feet and put his jacket around Castiel's shoulders. He wasn't giving the former angel a chance to object this time.

-oOo-

When it came time to break camp Voxifera assured them the swamp was not far. Sure enough the thick trees gave way to a mire stretching as far as the eye could see. Though the eye could not see far, a dank fog lurked above the surface, concealing most of it from view. It looked like any other swamp that might be encountered on earth, but the deathly silence marked it as something different. There was no sound of beast nor bird, and no buzzing insects. Everything was still. Even the rest of purgatory had rustles and crunches from unseen creatures… Here there was nothing, just a void. Even the denizens of purgatory seemed afraid of it.

"So here we are… This is your last chance to turn back". Voxifera spoke to them both, but she levelled a pointed gaze at Castiel.

The former angel looked away and shirked off Dean's jacket. Dean took it from him and laid it down beside Voxifera. "Take care of that, I'll be back for it". It was dirty and torn by now, there didn't seem much to take care of, but he was making it clear that he would be back… he would survive this.

Dean looked back at Castiel… he wasn't so sure the former angel would survive. Apart from the elephant in the room of Castiel's sins, he looked like death warmed up. "Hey Cas… you know, you can wait for me here. I'd rather let you look after my jacket than her anyway".

"I'm coming Dean". Castiel sought to give him a reassuring smile; it died on his lips too quickly.

"It's just… you're not at the top of your game, I can tell. Do you at least want to wait and rest up a while? Tackle this mother when you're feeling better?"

"No Dean, I've rested as much as I can. Let's just get this over with". He stepped towards the edge of the swamp as if trying to prove himself fit for duty.

"Ok then… let's do this". He went to join Castiel and looked back at Voxifera. "See you later I guess".

The wolf gave a solemn nod as she watched them step into the mire.

-oOo-

_This one's for believing  
If only for its sake  
Come on friends get up now  
Love is to be made_

"_It looks like you are well and truly... on your own"._

From the moment Crowley uttered those words Sam's mind focussed. He locked on to one goal… _get Dean back_. When Sam lost his brother before he had fallen apart a little… He felt the teeth of despair starting to gnaw at his bones even now, but Sam would not give in to it. Instead his resolve hardened. He was going to get Dean back and nothing would stand in his way. The world was not strong enough to keep the Winchesters apart.

Besides, Crowley was wrong. Sam was not on his own. However the demon was right about the leviathans needing to be crushed and Sam would use what contacts he had to do it. His first order of business was to call Garth and get a contingent of hunters down to Sucrocorp. They were to learn what they could of leviathan locations and operations, then torch the place. After that it would be a simple matter of hunting the monsters down as usual.

With the leviathans seen to Sam could turn his mind wholly to the task of finding Dean and Castiel. They had disappeared in the explosion of black goo… they must have been transported elsewhere or pulled away by some unseen force. Sam thought back to the moment he had been zapped from Lucifer's path and placed on a plane. Could God…? No. The apocalypse had ended, so God was doubtlessly more unconcerned with their fate than he had been before.

Logic told Sam of four possibilities. Dean and Castiel could be somewhere on earth, in hell, in heaven, or in purgatory. Earth was a real possibility, and Sam wouldn't put it past Crowley to have a hand in taking them to hell… Heaven was less likely. The angels were few, and a scattered, rudderless force at that. Castiel also had friends there still. It surely wouldn't be too difficult for the two of them to get sent back to earth... He was sure Dean wouldn't accept being up there and one way or another would _make_ them send him back. Purgatory was the final option, and perhaps the worst one. If Castiel and Crowley had such a hard time opening the door it was going to be no cakewalk for Sam. He feared Dick's demise had pulled his brother and friend into purgatory. It didn't help matters that the current leading authority on purgatory would be Crowley… Sam really didn't want to deal with that self important asshole of a demon if at all possible. But if it meant getting Dean back he would do what had to be done.

First things first Sam put in a few calls, trying to find somebody to do a bit of scrying for him. He didn't have much luck… numbers were dead, he had run out of favours to cash in, and one contact had managed to ditch the supernatural life for apple pie. Despite Sam's most ardent pleadings he refused to touch anything magic again… It was a shame people on the phone were out of the range of his puppy eyes. Sam cursed in frustration, but deep down he was maybe a little jealous. It crossed his mind - He could walk away, he could find his own piece of apple pie, but no… it would mean nothing without Dean. He could not in good conscience sit drinking beer with his brother stuck God knows where. Sam wouldn't be able to have a normal life… his job, his family, his every interaction would feel like an act. And Sam started to see how cruel it had been to ask Dean not to look for a way to get him out of the cage… Normal was an idle fantasy, a fairytale life it wouldn't do to dwell on. Sam refused to let it enter his thoughts again.

When Sam broke his reverie he found his fingers had settled over a familiar name scrawled across the yellowed page before him: Missouri. He dialled the number. Three rings, then somebody picked up.

After a moment of silence Missouri's gentle yet sassy voice rang out over the line. "Sam? That you boy?"

"Yes Missouri, it's me. How… how are you?"

"Figures, I knew I'd speak to you one last time before the end. Anyway I'm good, doing a damn sight better than you are I'd imagine".

"Wait, what did you mean by 'the end'?" Confusion leaked into Sam's voice.

"You know my gift don't work like that boy. Could be my end, your end, the world's end… All I know is that I'd speak to you one last time, and here you are. Whatever the end is, it's coming closer. Now you're calling about your brother right?"

"Missouri you can't just drop that on me and move on!"

"Sam Winchester, don't you raise your voice at me! I'd whack you with a spoon if you were here, teach you some manners. Now clean your ear holes out boy, I told you I don't know what it means. Wish I'd never said anything. It could be I get run over by a car tomorrow - it ain't worth worrying about. And don't fret, I'll make sure I look both ways across the road. Now tell me what happened with Dean".

"Dean, he… we were fighting leviathan, the head leviathan".

"Mmm, they're some mean sons of bitches so I hear".

"Our friend Cas was with him, and when they killed the leviathan there was some sort of explosion. They just disappeared Missouri. I don't know where they are…" He fought to keep his voice from wavering.

"You and your brother are special. I'm sure you've been told that a lot lately. There was always a spark of something in you boys, and I always wondered what it was doing in a goofy looking kid like Dean. But now your energy burns so brightly I could see you across the stars". She paused then, as if wondering how to phrase her next words. "Honey… I can't see Dean".

"You mean… he's dead?" Though disbelief crept into Sam's voice it was a possibility he had considered. He just didn't want to believe it. He believed with every fibre of his being that Dean was alive.

"No… no, he's just gone. Death is different, death is natural. There is a hole in the world where Dean should be. Wherever he is he ain't meant to be there. I'm sorry I can't tell you where he is honey, I can only tell you he isn't here".

"Ok… thank you Missouri". So that crossed earth off the 'Where's Dean?' list.

"Sam… there's something else: Seek a false prophet with a false face… look for a lamb with a dragon's voice. I know it don't make a lick of sense, but I just know this thing has what you need and I know I was meant to tell it to you".

There was silence on the line as Sam considered her words, committing them to memory.

"When you find your brother give him my love, and take care of yourself Sam. Take care of Dean too, I know he's your older brother but we all need looking after from time to time".

"Look after yourself too Missouri, thank you… you've been good to us, and our dad".

"I've always been glad to know you two boys, your daddy as well. All three of you were made out of the same stubborn but your hearts are among the truest I've known. Now go find your brother, and maybe I'll see you again in another life".

The line went dead before Sam had a chance to say anything more. He made a note to call Missouri again and prove her wrong. But for now he had research to do.


	2. For Your Forgiveness

Note: Quotes are from "For Your Demons" by Saturnus - a lovely song, check it out :) (stick watch?v=PTlnoC87k2I on a YouTube URL)

**The Hunter and the Hunted**

**Chapter 2 – For Your Forgiveness**

_This song is for your forgiveness  
For the sadness I knifed in your heart  
For the road that lies ahead  
With fear and hope, loss and salvation_

The thick sludge of the mire reached up to their knees. It was exhausting just putting one foot in front of the other. Every now and then Dean and Castiel would come across the stark limbs of a dead tree reaching up out of the swamp. But nothing ever seemed to change here, except maybe the dense fog closing in a little more… Voxifera had disappeared behind the white blanket some time ago. Looking back was just the same as looking forward. Fetid ground and a murky mist surrounded them completely. All they could do was keep moving forward and hope purgatory would reveal what they sought.

As they kept going Castiel's feet seemed to stick more and more. Dean turned to grip his hand and pull him onward with a few words of encouragement. He didn't know if it was Castiel tiring or the swamp trying to claim him. Dean just hoped against hope it wasn't the latter.

"Hey, so what do you think about Voxifera?" Dean said it to break the silence, and give Castiel something to focus on. Besides, they hadn't had a chance to discuss the wolf without her being there.

"She seems benevolent enough…" Castiel thoughtfully replied.

"Yeah, I'm still not so sure about her. I've had enough things smile to my face and bite me in the ass when my back's turned…" As soon as the words were out of his mouth Dean cursed. Castiel's betrayal was right up there with the best of them.

Happily Castiel didn't seem to have picked up on it. "As she said, she could have killed us several times over by now if that's what she wanted".

"Well maybe she's saving us for something, maybe there's a game plan…"

"Maybe she's just one of purgatory's kindlier inhabitants hiding behind a vicious face. While the creatures here are certainly guilty of and capable of killing, many are not wholly evil… Lenore was a vampire and lived peacefully enough, and Eleanor…"

"Heh, call me old fashioned but I like to believe a monster is a monster until proven otherwise. Sometimes if you start asking questions first and shooting later you end up dead in this line of work… If she has got a game plan why is she sending us out here? Maybe it's a trap. With all this First Beast talk maybe she's sending us out here as a nice little snack for him… I dunno. I'd like to believe she's genuinely helping us, and it's the only lead we got right now, but I can't help thinking these things. Blame it on my nasty suspicious little hunter mind…"

When Castiel didn't answer Dean realised he was stuck again. He went to grab the former angel's arm and turned to pull him and walk on. Dean's own arm just jerked back, Castiel stood in place. "Come on Cas, give me a little help here".

He faced the former angel then, giving Castiel's arm another pull. Castiel still stood, staring fixedly ahead. "What's the matter Cas? What's wrong?"

There was no reply, Castiel was starting to worry Dean. He pulled harder at the angel, speaking firmly, trying to snap him out of it. "Come on Cas! I know it's difficult, just put one foot in front of the other".

Then to his alarm Dean realised the mire had inched up Castiel's legs. "Cas! You're sinking! Come on! Move your feet!"

Castiel spoke then; his eyes were wide and filled with tears. "I'm sorry Eleanor… Balthazar… Sam. All of you, everyone, I'm so sorry". He sounded like a lost child, addressing ghosts that haunted him.

Fear struck Dean… the swamp was trying to claim Castiel. The mire was digging its claws deep into the ex-angel's sins, and Castiel's guilt left him defenceless. Dean was pulling frantically at his arm now. Castiel had sunk up to his waist and Dean could see him sinking further. "No! Don't be sorry! Don't give in! Come on… Castiel! Fight it! Please, you have to try!"

Castiel looked directly at Dean, meeting his eyes. "This is what I deserve… I'm sorry Dean".

"Don't say that to me!" Something in Dean broke then. Through Castiel's betrayal, downfall, and recovery they had had their fair share of fights, but their friendship stood fast at the heart of it all. Dean had once said he would forgive Castiel, he couldn't do it then, but he would do it eventually… He thought they would have a lifetime to work things out. And now, with Castiel's life slipping through his fingers, Dean realised he didn't need to forgive Castiel. He had already forgiven him.

The mire reached Castiel's arms. Dean moved in closer and wrapped his own arms around the former angel, trying to hold him up. Dean's voice was quieter now, breaking up around his words. "Castiel, please, fight… do it for me, you're my friend, my brother… I forgive you".

Dean felt the former angel slip a little further. "Castiel! You stupid angel! You've got to move or you'll die!"

Castiel just looked at Dean with dull eyes as if he was already gone. "Move… please. Don't give up! Castiel, I've forgiven you. Now forgive yourself!"

Suddenly the pulling force ceased and Castiel's eyes closed. Frantically Dean checked for his pulse and sighed with relief at feeling it beating strongly. The swamp must have released its hold… "Thank you" Dean whispered to the air.

Dean felt utterly drained, the adrenaline of the last few moments had left him hollow, and their ordeal was far from over. Now he had to forge ahead through the swamp and drag Castiel with him. The cold mud of the mire had seeped into Dean's clothes and against his skin. He had to fight for every step; it was an exercise in misery. But one thought ran through Dean's mind. He couldn't remember where he had heard it or who had said it, but it seemed appropriate: If you're going through hell, keep going.

Of course, they had both been through hell… Castiel had pulled Dean out of it. This wasn't hell; it was a different kind of torture with a different kind of despair. And this time Dean would pull Castiel out. Every cell of his being was screaming for him to stop; the dead weight of the former angel dragged on his heart, but Dean would keep going. He always kept going.

After making it a little further the fog parted to reveal solid ground ahead. It seemed purgatory had taken mercy on them. Dean hauled Castiel out of the mire and collapsed on the ground next to him. After taking a few deep breaths and revelling in the feeling of having survived, Dean sat up to take in their surroundings.

They were at the base of a large mound, a few trees were scattered around the edge, and large rocks lined a path to the top where they merged into a formation. At the bottom of it a cave was just visible from their position.

Castiel stirred and opened his eyes. The clear blue gave a contrast to the foul, swamp mud that covered them both from head to toe. "Thank you Dean". It was said with such sincerity and meaning, his eyes said more than words ever could.

"Cas… I thought I'd lost you". The feel of Castiel's lifeless body in Dean's arms was all too real; he was beyond relieved to see the former angel alive and awake now.

"I thought I was lost… I could hear it, in my head, telling me…" Castiel's words faltered and he took several deep breaths as if he'd been out for a long run. Dean shuffled closer and placed a steady hand on the former angel's shoulder. He didn't need to hear what it told Castiel. That was clear enough. "… It sounded like _him_, it said I was a monster, it said all of Heaven wept when an angel deserved to die… and then you forgave me".

Castiel looked to Dean and his anxious eyes softened. "You forgave me and it fell silent. I realised what I did, what I became, everything that happened because of me… I can never change that. I can only change myself, and I have changed. I am not the same person I was then. I am not so arrogant, not so blind, and not so foolish".

"It's ok Cas… you can forgive yourself". Dean smiled sadly.

"I have, just as you told me, and in granting forgiveness I also vowed to do things right from now on". Castiel tried pushing himself up with difficulty. "Dean, there's something, I have to…"

Dean gave him a hand in getting up. "Don't worry about it Cas, we can talk about everything once we're off this God-forsaken rock. I hope you're up for a walk, looks like we've got some climbing to do".

Dean looked to the top of the mound. If they were searching for a beast, the cave seemed a likely place to start…

-oOo-

As they trekked up towards the cave Castiel's mind was firmly on the pills he had been taking. He had vowed to do things right, and part of that would be coming clean to Dean. Hiding things from Dean had been part of the whole wretched disaster before. It was unwise to go down that path again. But just as he was about to confess Dean had put him back on his feet and forged ahead… Perhaps it was the wrong time and place for such discussion. But Castiel wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out, he felt himself deteriorating by the minute. The sheen of sweat on his forehead could be explained by the uphill walk they were undertaking, but truthfully Castiel was running hot and cold, and after this exertion he felt on the verge of collapse.

Castiel never had to suffer pain and sickness when this body was just a vessel. As an angel he had always been a step removed from any damage sustained, and his grace would heal it before he really felt anything. But now this body was his own and Castiel felt _everything_. He yearned for his grace to come back, to take it all away, and his thoughts turned to Anna. Anna had fallen to feel… he couldn't understand, why would she want this? Why would anyone want _this_? It hurt, human existence was full of pain. It was getting harder to move, harder to think. Scattered thoughts tumbled through his mind… Anna, Uriel… Zachariah, Lucifer… apocalypse, hell… Dean. There was Dean… friendship, loyalty. Maybe humanity did have a few good things to offer. Castiel focussed on Dean forging ahead in front of him and tried to pull his fractured thoughts together. They were to face the First Beast. From his faded memories a verse came to the fore… _And I stood upon the sand of the sea, and saw a beast rise up out of the sea, having seven heads and ten horns, and upon his horns ten crowns, and upon his heads the name of blasphemy_… He needed to focus.

Upon reaching the cave mouth Castiel quickly took a seat upon a rock while Dean started exploring. The cave was huge and looked to be deep. Castiel imagined you could spend days blindly wandering the darkness within.

"Hey! Beast! Beast, you home?!" Dean's voice echoed into the abyss.

"You should call him with a little more respect…" Though he spoke between panted breaths, the corner of Castiel's mouth quirked a little; he knew that wasn't Dean's style.

"Oh, so you mean like… Dear Beast! Won't you be a good fellow and step out for a word with us please?"

"Um… just like that, yes" Castiel rolled his eyes.

Too late they noticed Dean's voice hadn't echoed. Instead a shuffling sound came to them and sickly green eyes lit up in the darkness. Castiel stood and stumbled back to join Dean… There were many pairs of eyes, all moving in concert. A sickening scent rolled out of the depths; different from purgatory's fetid air… it was reminiscent of hellfire. The beast stopped at the threshold of the cave, leaving itself concealed in shadow. Then it spoke with many voices, all as one, but each sounded aged and wrecked. "Who are you? For what purpose do you wake me?"

Castiel stepped forward on shaking legs to address the beast. "Forgive us, I am Castiel, and this is my friend Dean Winchester".

"You offer your names freely, and by your names I know you. So a celestial and the Righteous Man have come to visit… but you have not yet told me why you are here". The many voices of the beast were disconcerting. Some seemed to speak before others, giving a rolling effect to its speech.

"We seek your help. We became trapped here after slaying the leader of the leviathans, and we are told you know the way out". Castiel tried to gather his thoughts for the cut and thrust of words the beast would no doubt engage in, but it was taking enough effort just to stand before the creature.

"Maybe I do… maybe I don't, but more importantly why should I help you?" Its ancient, cracked voice sounded world weary. The beast seemed genuinely in search of a reason why it should help a pair of mortals from a world that had long passed it by.

Castiel opened his mouth but Dean seemed to notice the former angel was starting to tire and struggle. He stepped forward beside Castiel and lent his voice to the proceedings. "Look, we've done you guys a service, putting the souls back here and locking that son of a bitch up again. The least you can do is help us get back home".

One pair of eyes slinked closer. Purgatory's pale light revealed a terrible horned head with a wide mouth that looked like it belonged to a lion. Its invasive stare ate at Castiel, telling him it knew _exactly_ how the souls and leviathans were released in the first place. "And why should I care about that?"

"Well… they didn't belong up there on earth. A place for every soul and every soul in its place you know…"

"Quite, but I care nothing for the souls here, or the leviathans. They may run where they will… I have been here a long time, and I will be here a long time yet. I am the First Beast, I am Therion. I was created to destroy and lead astray those marked… Now I am defeated and chained here. You angels create your own destruction now, spurned by an indifferent God. He made us all, good and bad alike. Do not think that he is pure; the evil he poured into each creature must dwell in his heart. The leviathan's hunger for destruction is his own hunger. Why do you worship him? He is a monster like any other, and he has abandoned his creations. So I care little for his rules… for what goes where and when. Tell me, if God no longer cares then why should I?"

"Ok, look, first off I ain't worshipping nobody… and what about this rock you live on? We're alive, and we don't belong here. I'm told we could upset a fair few things in these parts. If purgatory goes down the tube, so do you".

"Well… I could easily solve that problem by killing you now. But you think this existence is one I hold dear? I sleep and have only my dreams… To die eternally would at least be something. Now leave me be, before I change my mind about killing you…" The eyes started blinking out and the beast made to shuffle away.

"Wait! Wait, come back! Please… I just want to get home to my brother". Dean didn't expect such family sentiments to move the beast; he was clutching at straws and just blurted it out. But the beast stilled all the same.

"A brother? I had a brother once… Brothers bring nothing but pain. He was lesser to me, he was meant to command people to worship me, but he was jealous, he envied my crowns. And I am crowned no longer… I am sure much of my current predicament can be laid at his feet. Now he walks the earth, seeking a crown of his own. I wonder if he has found it… My brother hides; he is a false prophet with a false face. Were he stood before me I would not recognise him. It was his one real talent…" The First Beast's many eyes were alive with anger. "Has your brother caused you pain?"

"Truthfully… yes". Dean wasn't sure where he was going with this. It seemed he had found something the First Beast actually cared about anyway.

"Then you must return to him. To inflict your own pain in vengeance… whether you mean to or not, you will. My time is done; my brother is out of reach. But my retribution can live through you, the First Beast, the older brother. Your every harsh word, your every brandished blade… they will all be mine. Breathe in the breath of my wrath and it will be done".

The First Beast turned several of its heads towards Dean, they began to blow a great wind at him. It was difficult to hear, he was sure Castiel called his name, but the beast's words cut through like a knife.

"There is only one with the keys to purgatory and the freedom to move between our worlds at will: The Master of the Wild Hunt. Seek him out, but be wary, the Hunt may only be approached safely when they sit at banquet. Now be gone, and let me sleep". The remaining heads joined in with the gale, now targeting Castiel as well. The two of them lost their footing and then their grip on consciousness.

-oOo-

A wet nose pushed at Dean's cheek… that damn dog again. Wait…

"Wake up" Voxifera's face hovered inches above Dean's.

He shot up and was immediately relieved to see Castiel curled up beside him. He was also relieved to see the muck of the swamp had been cleaned from them.

The wolf dropped Dean's jacket on top of him and then glared at him eagerly. "So, what did you learn?"

Dean shook his head, feeling as if he were clearing a fog from his mind. "The Hunt… the beast said we have to find the Master of the Wild Hunt. He can get us out of purgatory".

Voxifera froze, Dean was sure he could detect a hint of fear in her eyes. "You will find no aid if you seek the Hunt. They will see you only as prey".

"Well the beast says we can approach them safely at banquet".

"There is nothing _safe_ about the Hunt. They are dangerous, to me as well as you. We creatures are already dead in this place… if we are slain we wake here again. The beasts of purgatory hunger and no kill can bring satisfaction. With each new death the hunger worsens, and that is all we have to fear. But if you are slain by the Hunt you awake as a thrall in the Master's service, there is much to fear about that... and he has long sought my hide to adorn his shoulders. If you insist on pursuing the Hunt I can protect you no longer".

"But we have to. The Beast said he holds the keys to purgatory and moves between worlds at will. It's our only way out of here…" Dean looked to Castiel for some back up, but he found the former angel still curled up and shivering. He sighed. "Ok, at least take us some place safe so Cas can rest up. He isn't well, and it's no use going after the Hunt while he's like this. Then you can do what you like".

Dean picked up his coat and draped it over Castiel, shaking him lightly as he did so. "Come on dude, can you get up? We can't stay here…"

He only received a low moan in response. "I know you feel like crap, but if you can just get up and walk a little further we'll have a nice long rest somewhere safe".

Castiel made a more cooperative noise and raised a hand to Dean. The former angel swayed a moment after he was pulled to his feet. Then he swiped an arm across his face and blinked his eyes a few times. His rough voice muttered: "I'm fine, lead on" before he took a few shaky steps.

"Dude, if you're fine, I'm Mother Teresa…"

They walked along slowly, making little progress. Voxifera seemed frustrated and anxious up front, while Dean kept a watchful eye on Castiel, making sure he was keeping up. Every time Dean asked how much further they were going to be walking Voxifera would tell him not far. Dean started to doubt her answer…

Then came the moment Dean turned to Castiel only to see his footsteps falter and his legs give way. As he hit the ground Dean ran to Castiel's side and pulled the former angel up to cradle his head on his lap. Lightly Dean patted his face. "Hey, hey Cas? You with me?"

Castiel's eyelids fluttered and a hazy focus came back to his sight. "Dean… there's something… pocket, my pocket. I'm sorry". He spoke as if each word cost him greatly.

"I thought we were done with apologies huh? It's ok… just breathe". Dean reached his hand into Castiel's pocket since it seemed to be so important to him. An icy chill ran through him as his fingers hit something solid and familiar.

Dean pulled out the pill bottle, noting it was empty. He felt as if someone had punched him in the chest. He looked at Castiel and found the ex-angel looking back with such earnest regret in his eyes.

"You were…" Dean struggled to find his voice amid the disbelief. "… _all_ that time you were taking the pills?"

Castiel gave a weak nod.

"Dammit Cas! You know how much these things can screw you up?!" With his current condition he was sure Castiel now had an idea. "And it's empty, so this must be withdrawal…"

Dean wanted to yell and shake some sense into the former angel. But the pale, weak and shivering figure on his knee was a stark reminder of their trial through the mire. Dean's fear at almost losing his friend, and Castiel's revelation, were fresh in his mind… He realised Castiel had led him to the pill bottle; he had wanted to confess and be truthful with Dean. Castiel was trying to change. And so no matter how much Dean wanted to shout and scream and rage against the endless crap they were forced to live through, he just couldn't bring himself to be angry at the angel.

As the fury passed from Dean's face he tenderly pulled his jacket back around the ex-angel. "It's ok, you're ok… we'll get you through this". Castiel's eyes closed, a look of relief the last thing on his face.

Voxifera suddenly moved in and lay down by the former angel. "Throw him over my back. We cannot linger, the mormolykeia are close".

A howl split the darkness as Dean hefted Castiel onto Voxifera. He barely had time to check the former angel was secure before the wolf dashed off. A second howl joined in with the first as Dean followed them into the trees. A third sounded soon after.

-oOo-

_This song is for the demons  
That haunted you in those loveless lonely nights  
And for the shadows that stained your soul  
For the echoes of your loss_

Sam slammed another dusty book shut and drained the last of his coffee. He was getting nowhere. Missouri's words had led him to dead end after dead end. So getting to his feet Sam started gathering a few items for a ritual. All he had been able to dig up on the 'false prophet' and 'lamb with a dragon's voice' were references to the second beast of Revelation. And according to everyone he spoke to, and everything he read, there was no such thing. Then again angels had also been fictional not so long ago…

With nothing to go on Sam had gone back to his process of elimination. Hell or purgatory were his best options for Dean and Castiel's location, and unfortunately his best lead on both of them would be Crowley. So Sam found himself in Rufus' cabin putting together a summoning ritual for the King of Hell. Crowley was the last person he wanted to speak to right now, but he had vowed to do whatever it took to get Dean back… Together with the ritual items Sam had retrieved a bottle of whisky. He took a swig before striking a match and dropping it into the bowl of blood and worse.

"Ah Sam, taking to the bottle I see. Missing Dean are we?"

Sam resisted the impulse to punch Crowley's smarmy grinning face. "You don't say anything about him. You just tell me where he is".

"See this is what comes of such co-dependency. You get separated and you run yourself into the ground… or maybe you're just jealous. Dean and his angel off somewhere together without you… I can only imagine what they're getting up to". Crowley gave a lewd wink.

Sam's fists clenched at his sides. "Where is he?"

"Bet he's glad to be rid of you, little brother, cramping his style…"

"Have you got him in hell?"

"I might have… you're not bothered about the angel then? Can't help but notice you haven't asked after him. Still bitter?"

"Cas is… forgiven. Now have you got them or not?" Sam was rapidly losing patience with Crowley's games.

"And what if I said you could only have one back? You'd pick Dean of course, but what if I said you had to torture dear old Cas to free him?" Crowley took a step forwards. "You would do it wouldn't you? You would do anything…"

"No…" Sam whispered unconvincingly.

Crowley stepped closer still, his voice turning menacing and dangerous. "I know you Winchesters. So sacrificial, you would give up pieces of your humanity while you tortured and became what you hated. You would cut your friend to ribbons, seeing him as a piece of meat standing between you and your brother… You would do it. And you know what I would do? I would carry on where you left off".

The demon stood inches from Sam's face, spittle flecking the air between them. "I would take him to pieces and remake him with hate at the core of his heart. And when dear Castiel could fall no lower, when he was completely mine, I would send him back to you. My black eyed boy would take Dean from you, drag him back where he belongs and the torture would start anew. Only this time it would be Castiel's hands peeling the skin from Dean's bones, and you would be left here alone again".

Abruptly Crowley dropped his threatening demeanour and turned on his heel. After taking a few steps he turned back to Sam, smarmy grin in place again. "Lucky for you, I don't have them. They're not in hell".

Sam took a couple of deep breaths after suffering Crowley's verbal onslaught. When he found his voice he put the bite back in it. "Then where are they?"

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Purgatory my dear dense fellow. They're in purgatory".

"How… how do I get them back?"

"Well for starters you're going to need something connected to them both… something powerful… something a little like this". Crowley took his fist from a pocket and held it out in front of him.

When the demon opened his fist Dean's amulet dropped down. It hung off a finger, swinging slightly in the air, glowing faintly from Castiel's grace held within.

"What do you want in exchange? My soul?"

"You're so eager to give it away after all the trouble you went through to get it back?" Crowley tutted. "What would Dean say? In any case, you forget - this holds a piece of Lucifer too. As much as I would like your soul I am loath to let this out of my sight…"

Sam raised his voice. "What then? There must be something!"

"Calm down ducky. I've got an idea. See, you don't want to let go of your soul, and I don't want to let go of this trinket. How about instead of a deal we play a game?"

"I've had it with games Crowley, this isn't a game, it's _our lives_ you're playing with!"

"I'm well aware of the stakes, believe me". A dangerous edge came into his voice again. "Me and the lads get together for a game of poker on a Friday night. Care to join us?"

"Poker? You want me to put my soul on a game of _poker_?"

"Am I not speaking English? Yes! Now are you in or not?"

Sam weighed up his options. He didn't trust Crowley as far as he could throw him. But what other choice did he have? If he went along with it he might be able to find a way to get his hands on the amulet… It had to be better than a straight up deal for his soul in any case. He had to get Dean back, and he would do _whatever_ he had to.

"I'm in".

"Good".

_Click_.


	3. For the Lonely

Note: Quotes are Greg Laswell's again.

**The Hunter and the Hunted**

**Chapter 3 – For the Lonely**

_This one's for the lonely  
The ones that seek and find  
Only to be let down  
Time after time_

As the three crashed through the undergrowth trees seemed to reach out to grasp them and roots rose up to trip their feet. Dean's face was scarred from the clawing of branches, and more than once he found himself face down on the ground having lost his footing. Ahead of him Voxifera raced on, she moved through the terrain more gracefully, like a river flowing through the trees. Dean was sure the wolf could go faster, but she kept a steady pace, ensuring Dean didn't fall behind and Castiel didn't fall from her back. The only problem being that the chorus of howls were keeping up with them…

A hideous baying came through the trees to their right. Voxifera took a sharp left and hurried on. Not expecting it Dean stumbled and almost went down again. His lungs were screaming by now, the pursuit was draining him. Dean ran on little more than adrenaline, and that wouldn't last. Then suddenly Voxifera disappeared from view. Dean was about to yell for her when his foot hit thin air and he fell into a ditch. Stones dug into him as he slid down to the bottom, but he found Castiel and Voxifera safely cowering there. The incline was shallow where Dean fell in, but further along it went deeper into an alcove, and a sheer drop met anyone on the ground above. They were well hidden from sight, but it might take more than that to fool the mormolykeia.

"Come here, and be quiet… they may pass us by". Voxifera urged in hushed tones.

So Dean pressed himself into the alcove and pulled Castiel to his knee. The former angel had a raging fever, his eyes rolled and his arms pushed at imagined foes. As Castiel's moans became louder Dean tried to shush him, but the hallucinations seemed to intensify. His muttered mumblings became words.

"My wings… they're coming for my wings, the hellhounds. They want to tear at them, ravage them…"

"Please Cas, just be quiet, they'll go away if you're quiet". Dean desperately begged the former angel. Though the mention of hellhounds froze his heart - Was Castiel tortured by his wild charge into hell? Was he reliving the search for Dean and the struggle to raise him from perdition?

Castiel's wild eyes settled on Dean for a moment, then his face creased with pain and the former angel let out a yell. "It hurts! Their teeth! Taking wings, feather, bone…"

A howl rent the air and Voxifera turned a dangerous glare on Dean. A part of him felt genuine fear at that look; he quickly clapped a hand over Castiel's mouth. The former angel struggled weakly in Dean's arms. Nonsensical words and languages tumbled from Castiel's mouth and slipped between Dean's fingers. "Shut up Cas… _please_".

A long mournful howl sounded nearby, one after the other, more answered it. The hounds were closing in, and Dean was still fighting with Castiel.

"Get them off! Dean! Please!" Castiel sounded frantic, a stream of Enochian followed, with some Japanese mixed in. Dean shook Castiel as hard as he dared and tightened his hand over the former angel's mouth.

"He's going to get us all killed!" Voxifera hissed. "Do something!"

Regretfully Dean's eyes settled on a broken off piece of root near his feet. He lay Castiel down on the ground and took it. The former angel clung on to his arm, begging Dean to stop the hounds from destroying his wings. Sweat covered Castiel, he seemed as wild as the creatures they ran from. The wood was rough against Dean's hand, he paused, hating what he was about to do.

"What are you waiting for?!" The wolf snapped at him.

So full of apology Dean raised the root and brought it down on Castiel's head. Immediately the angel fell silent as the blow rendered him unconscious. Dean dropped the root and pulled Castiel's now still form to his chest.

Dean hardly dared breathe. The howls and barks seemed to close in about them. He expected a slathering muzzle to appear over the edge of the ditch at any moment… Voxifera grew agitated beside him. Eventually she uttered a short: "Wait here" and disappeared from the ditch.

Alone, Dean listened to the soft regular breaths of Castiel in his arms. He wondered if the wolf would abandon them. If Voxifera saw the hounds were close and too many in number she might take off to save her own hide. Dean imagined them closing in, coming down into the ditch and cornering them against the wall… Then he was broken from his thoughts by the sound of something pushing through the undergrowth above. Was this it? Had the mormolykeia found them? Dean took a tighter grip on Castiel, readying to fling him over a shoulder and run. They wouldn't stand much of a chance, but Dean had to try. Dean held his breath as the creature came to the mouth of the ditch, then he let it go at seeing Voxifera returning to them. It was a welcome sight despite her restless and anxious state.

"They're coming this way, we need to run. Get on". The wolf lay down beside them. Dean quickly threw Castiel onto her back and then awkwardly climbed up after him. Grabbing Castiel with one arm and a fistful of fur with his other hand, Dean held on for dear life as Voxifera set off at a run.

The wolf bounded out of the ditch just as one of the great hounds leapt down into it. Sailing through the air its snapping jaws missed them by inches. It scrabbled to get out giving Voxifera a slight head start. Purgatory passed by in a blur, branches once again scratched at Dean's skin and his clothes. But Dean ignored the stinging sensation, caught up in the chase as he was. The relentless pounding of feet against the ground and pants of exertion grew louder behind them. Dean risked a glance over his shoulder and found another two mormolykeia had joined the first. As he watched another leapt out of the undergrowth seamlessly joining the pursuit. It gave a howl to the heavens and yet more gathered from behind.

The first hound was greater than any of the others. It had an air of ancient intimidation… those lesser paled in comparison. Dean imagined an angry St Bernard leading a charge of yappy Chihuahuas. Despite the situation he couldn't help but inwardly smile at the thought. Then he noticed the lead hound had scars that told of battles won. Its milky eyes were fixed on Voxifera's tail. This was a beast to rival the wolf in every way. Dean just prayed they would be able to lose the pack of mormolykeia somehow. A head to head fight would not end well.

"Hold on!" Voxifera shouted. Dean's head snapped forward to see the ground give way in front of them. A gully split the land, as if a river had once flowed through it but had long ago dried up. It left a gap a few metres across; Dean could see the wolf intended to jump it. He held on and held his breath.

As Voxifera left the earth and leapt into the air Dean was sure they would make it. Then an icy hand gripped his heart as Dean felt her stall beneath him. He looked round to see the leader of the mormolykeia had leapt after them. It now gripped the wolf's back leg hard between its teeth. Voxifera let out a roar of anger and pain as they fell down into the gully. The momentum of the leap shot Dean and Castiel on to the other side. They rolled end over end as they hit the dirt. Dean noticed Castiel beginning to stir but he had no time to check the former angel over. He rushed to the edge of the gully and found the wolf and the great hound tearing into each other. The remaining mormolykeia lined the opposite edge, walking up and down, snarling and snapping. It seemed both sides had their cheerleaders.

The wolf and the hound tore at each other with razor sharp claws. Their mouths were open wide as they tried to bite at one another's throats, straining to sink fangs into soft vulnerable flesh. Each growled, grunted and snarled. The sounds seemed involuntary with the exertion. Dean felt he was watching a dog fight, the other mormolykeia provided the cries of the baying crowds. As the fight went on injuries became more apparent. One of Voxifera's pointed ears was torn and shredded, but she managed to dig her claws into the hound's soft underbelly and kick out. A spray of blood stained the dirt. As the two clashed and came together, the undulating tides of dark fur made it hard to tell them apart. Each glistened with a spreading coat of blood; it began to make pools on the ground. The fight was so vicious and relentless it seemed only one bloody, ruined carcass could bring it to an end.

Then suddenly the growls and yelps ceased and the two broke apart. Each set to circling the other in the confines of the gully. One of the great hound's milky eyes had been stained red, and Voxifera's appearance was far from the composed, thoughtful creature they had first come across. Here was a beast Dean could hunt, wild and dangerous, a killer.

Their panting mouths were slathering maws of foam and blood. As Voxifera spoke it dripped and flecked the air. "What does she want with them?"

"What does anybody here want with them?" The voice of the hound rumbled in answer, a slight smirk evident in her words. "More importantly, what do you want with them?"

"My reasons are my own Xanthia. They are mine, and you will leave them". Voxifera growled, her hackles rising.

"You know I only bend to one woman's will, and you are not her. Give them up… leave now and you may walk away freely".

"I will not". Voxifera roared and launched herself at the hound in answer.

Dean got the impression these two had tangled before. The smell of bad blood was all over this. He hardly noticed Castiel drawing up beside him. Dean soon noticed when the former angel started speaking in a low voice. He turned to Castiel then, the angel held out a blood stained hand, palm up, facing the hounds. His other traced shapes in the dirt with bloodied fingers.

"Cas? What are you doing?" Dean received no answer.

Then suddenly Castiel raised his bowed head and began shouting out clear words. They meant nothing to Dean, he simply watched astounded. Castiel's eyes seemed bright with more than fever…

"… Hekate, Nykterian, Skylakitin, Therobromon…" The words poured from Castiel, then ceased abruptly. Fluidly he got to his feet, palm raised, head bowed again.

As Castiel stopped, something seemed to run through the mormolykeia, almost like an electrical current. Just as a flock of birds take flight at once they all turned tail and disappeared into the trees.

Down in the gully the wounded hound looked at Castiel with an expression half fear and half anger. "He can't… how does he…" The hound mumbled even as it scaled the side of the gully. Slipping and sliding the beast eventually managed to get out, it gave one last look at the former angel before chasing after its companions.

As it left Castiel seemed to come out of whatever trance he'd been in. He started listing to one side and almost toppled over. Dean caught the former angel and lowered him to the ground. "What the hell was that?!"

The scrabbling sounds of Voxifera struggling out of the gully came to him. As she heaved herself over the side Dean gave her a questioning look. Though a wolven face didn't give away much she seemed to be wearing a relieved smile. "He might be human now but there must be something angelic left over in that head of his…"

"Why? What did he do?"

"The mormolykeia are attendants of Hecate. They obey only her… Castiel just called on Hecate and used her words against them".

"Well, thank God for that… not that I thought you couldn't take the ugly mutt of course".

"I had her on the back foot for sure". Voxifera seemed to give a wolfish grin and she shook her bitten back leg with a wince.

Dean took in the shivering former angel and the blood stained wolf. "Ok, you two look like you need to take five. Let's just find somewhere to hole up for a while".

-oOo-

The three managed to limp over to another looming rock face. After following it along they came across an alcove in the stone. Not deep enough to be called a cave, but deep enough to offer some shelter and safety. Dean managed to get a fire going with the familiar stream of curses. Then he settled down once again with Castiel resting on his knee.

"Are you ok?" Dean looked up at Voxifera sitting by the fire, dried blood stuck clumps of her fur together.

"Don't worry about me; I've suffered worse at the hands of that bitch". She began to lick at her wounds.

Then Castiel started twisting and turning in Dean's arms. "The trees… they're covered in blood".

Dean tried to shush him and tell him everything was alright, but it didn't seem to penetrate Castiel's delusions. He tried to sit up and get away. Dean pulled him back down. "Hey, hey… settle down, we're safe here, you're safe Cas".

"It will come! Don't think it won't! The trees are made of bones… and they're covered in blood!"

Wordlessly Voxifera came alongside them and settled down over Castiel's legs, gently holding him down and acting as a living blanket of sorts. The former angel became more restful, lying back and quietening down.

Dean ran his hands soothingly through Castiel's mussed hair. "Oh Cas… why did you do this to yourself?"

Of course he got no answer. So Dean settled back with his two companions, watching the darkness roll in over purgatory. He could feel Castiel's laboured breaths and let out a sigh of his own. Thinking back over the last few months, Dean tried to recall any moments, any warning signs that told of Castiel's addiction. In truth he couldn't remember any. How had he been so blind? Together with Sam they had taught him to shoot, to cook, to be human. How had this slipped by them? Obviously Sam hadn't noticed either, but to use Castiel's own words Dean shared a profound bond with the former angel. He was supposed to notice. It was his job to notice…

Castiel had clearly kept his problem hidden well, even in purgatory… Dean thought back, going through their every moment since they arrived, reliving the terror and the violence. Only one thing stood out: Castiel's frequent bathroom breaks (as it put it)… no doubt the ex-angel had been popping pills instead. Then when they ran out withdrawal set in, and that's when Dean really noticed… Only he thought Castiel was sick, normal run of the mill sick, not "I really need a fix" sick.

As Dean kept mentally beating himself up Voxifera turned to him and cracked a yellow eye open. "I can practically hear you thinking" she said with hint of amusement to her voice.

"Yeah well… I've got a lot to think about".

"If you want to talk I have an ear to listen… one at least". The wolf twitched her good ear towards Dean, the other having been left torn and bloody from the fight.

Dean sighed again, reluctant to open up as ever. For a moment he battled with himself, eyes watching the flickering light of the fire. "He was filling himself up with pills and I didn't notice".

"You could not be with him every minute of every day…"

Dean went on as if he hadn't heard her. "I should have noticed. It's my job to look out for him… He's new to being human. I've seen what he becomes. I should have been looking for _this_… I've been so blind".

"And how clearly we see with hindsight…"

"I don't have hindsight, I have goddamn foresight. An angel zapped me to a future where Cas is an addict. I wanted to believe we were changing things. I wanted to believe so badly I couldn't see what was going on right in front of me". Dean sighed and laid his head against the stone wall at his back.

"Do not put your faith in the meddling of angels. If the flutter of a butterfly wing can change the world just imagine what you can do Dean Winchester".

Dean spent a few quiet moments in thoughtful reflection of the wolf's words. Time and again he had been told they could change things. People said there was no course set in stone, no path to follow. Only the changeable winds of free will could blow you in a certain direction. But still Dean worried; Satan's words ran through his mind… "_Whatever you do, you will always end up here. Whatever choices you make, whatever details you alter, we will always end up… here_". Dean had the dreadful feeling there was a path leading to a garden and all they could do was put bends in the road… It might take them on the scenic route, but the destination was still the same.

"Ok, I'll just flap my wings and see what happens…" It was said despondently and without hope. Dean shifted about uncomfortably and noticed the crackling fire was beginning to dim. "I'm going to get some more wood, watch him".

As Dean eased himself out from under the former angel Voxifera looked up at him with a warning in her eyes. "Of course… but do not go too far".

"What do you think I am? Some horror movie cliché?" Dean stretched as he stood; his frame had started to stiffen up against the hard ground. Then he looked out at purgatory, the darkness was beginning to lift, a shade of grey now washed the world… It reminded Dean of a graveyard; he almost expected to see mourners through the trees. But no figures in black revealed themselves, and Dean turned himself to the business of collecting wood instead of burning bones.

Fortunately there was enough wood to be found without straying from Voxifera's sight. Dean looked up to see the wolf curled around Castiel, warming his shivering form. It almost seemed like a small child being cared for by his pet dog. The loyal hound sat vigil by its master. Only in their world would it be a fully grown man with an overgrown wolf. Dean smiled as he built up the fire, then he noticed Castiel beginning to stir with beads of sweat forming on his forehead. The ex-angel seemed to be struggling through a nightmare. Finishing with the fire as quickly as he could Dean went to take his place with Castiel. Voxifera shifted to give him room.

"I'm falling… falling. Can't see the ground!" Castiel's arm shot out, grasping at thin air.

Dean took his hand tightly and wrapped his arms around the former angel, trying to bring him out of it. "You're not falling, you're right here with me".

Castiel's eyes flew open and locked onto Dean. His intense expression softened into confusion. The former angel spoke slowly, as if trying to gather his thoughts from a whirling snow globe. "Your face… I know you. I think I know you, I knew you once, in a half forgotten dream. It's all slipping away… forgetting more, remembering less. Who am I? God is with us? That is not right, that is not me… Am I real?"

"Yeah Cas, you're real". Dean brushed sweat soaked hair from the former angel's forehead. "I didn't think so first time we met. I didn't think angels existed. But then you decided to show off your big fancy wings and they were pretty impressive I have to admit. Kinda hard not to believe in angels after that".

Castiel's face softened as he listened intently to Dean. So Dean carried on talking about everything and nothing. "You were kind of a dick back then you know. You threatened to throw me back into hell and everything. I knew you didn't really mean it of course; you never fooled me for a minute. Who could give up this sweet piece of ass hey? There's been a lot of water under the bridge since then, you've mellowed some. Not sure we'll ever really get that stick out of your ass though"

The ex-angel's brow knit in confusion. "I think I was bad… I'm sorry, will you forgive me?" Castiel grabbed a fist full of Dean's shirt, and looked at him with pleading eyes.

"You're forgiven man… I told you already. Now go to sleep… just sleep Cas. You'll feel better soon". Lightly he brushed his fingers over Castiel's eyes as if urging a babe to settle. The former angel's hand relaxed and let go as he drifted away.

-oOo-

The eerie light and dark of purgatory passed by them several times. Throughout Castiel sweated and shivered in Dean's arms. He would curl up in pain and cry out at phantom dreams, but the worst was when he begged for more pills… Dean did his best to ground the former angel and tell him everything was alright. Even though at times he felt like he was trying to convince himself as well as Castiel. Gradually the former angel seemed to improve. His temperature returned to normal and delirious episodes became less frequent.

The sound of Dean's voice seemed to comfort Castiel so he found himself just talking. It reminded him of telling stories to Sam when he was little and ill. Except he didn't have any stories to tell Castiel, so he told him about hunts, about friends they'd lost and fights they'd had. It brought Sam to the forefront of his mind again. Down here Dean's thoughts were usually occupied with their near constant struggle to survive, but in the quiet moments he had time for his brother.

"… you would never have guessed he'd be so scared of clowns huh? Of all the things we face, vampires, ghosts, wendigos, it's _clowns_ that make him wet his pants?" Dean chuckled remembering the clown chair incident. "I hope Sam's doing ok…"

"I think he's safer than we are". Castiel whispered and coughed as he roused a little. His eyes remained shut tight though, and he said nothing more. Saying that much seemed to have taken what little energy he had. Still, Dean was happy to have him lucid and talking.

"Yeah well we don't tend to do too well when we're apart like this. As long as he doesn't shack up with some hell bitch again I suppose… I can take lost sleep and caffeine overdoses, but not that. We can cross dealing with demons off the list too. If he sells his soul after everything we went through we will be having words I can tell you".

Dean looked down at Castiel, waiting to see if he'd offer any input. With nothing forthcoming he tucked his jacket a little tighter around the former angel. "I've always looked after him. Ever since he was born it's been my job to protect him. I know he's not a kid any more but he's still my little brother…"

Attempting to shake off his melancholy thoughts Dean leaned back against the cave wall and tried to relax. He closed his eyes, tiredness catching up to him, and fell into a deep sleep soon after.

-oOo-

Dean woke when a flailing arm hit his face. Castiel was in the throes of a nightmare, twisting and turning, trying to fend off goodness knows what.

"Cas, _wake up_". Dean hissed and shook the former angel. He didn't want to raise his voice. Voxifera had gone missing and so Dean guessed she was after something that was after them. Danger was never far away here.

As Castiel came back to himself Dean peered into the darkness, watching for any sign of movement. With everything still, seemingly dead as the grave, Dean returned his attention to the ex-angel in his arms. He found bleary dazed eyes staring up at him. "… didn't mean to… should have told you".

"You sound like crap Cas, just rest".

"Need you to know… m'sorry, let you down". He gripped Dean's wrist tightly, struggling to get his point across.

"We'll talk about it when you're better. Just concentrate on getting better ok?" Dean pried his wrist free and settled Cas down before getting to his feet.

Just as Dean was heading for the tree line to investigate, Voxifera appeared putting his mind to rest. She assured him there was nothing out there to worry about; she'd taken care of the creatures she caught wind of. Still, they both kept a vigilant watch until the darkness waned and the washed out grey sky returned.

Some time later they were enjoying a quiet moment. Dean was in his usual place with Castiel across his knee and Voxifera was keeping watch at the cave mouth. The crackling of the fire and Castiel's soft huffs of breath were the only sounds to break the air.

Dean watched Voxifera with a careful eye before breaking the silence. "You know you can go if you want".

"And why would I want that?" She turned to look at him.

"Well you seemed pretty keen on leaving us after the swamp. I only asked you to take us some place safe… and here we are". Fortunately the wolf's presence continued to keep the beasts of purgatory at bay, but one or two occasionally got too close. Every time Voxifera disappeared to warn them off Dean worried that she wouldn't return. Yet she always came back without fail. "Cas will be on his feet soon. If you don't want to help us find the Hunt you can go".

Voxifera looked back out at purgatory, seeming to study the trees and their brittle bone branches. "I will stay… for now. If you insist on pursuing the Hunt I can take you as far as their hunting grounds, but I will go no further. Even that much will be a danger to me".

"Thank you". It was said quietly and appreciatively. In truth Dean had warmed to the wolf and had got used to travelling with her. Needless to say her ability to keep the beasts of purgatory off their back was more than useful too.

He looked down at Castiel then and was pleasantly surprised to find him looking back with clear bright eyes for what seemed like the first time in a long time.

"Hello Dean". The former angel whispered from between cracked lips.

"Hey Cas". Dean smiled back down at him.

-oOo-

_This one's for the faithless  
The ones that are surprised  
They are only where they are now  
Regardless of their fight_

_Click_.

Sam heard Crowley's fingers snap and then he was standing in another room.

The lights were dim and smoke was heavy in the air. It came from cigars being pulled on by a couple of the room's inhabitants. A small group sat at the bar, nursing their drinks in crystal cut glasses. It was not a very large room, but it was certainly well to do, from the solid oak round tables, to the thick carpet under foot, and the elaborate embroidered drapes over the windows.

Sam eyeballed the few gathered at the bar. They weren't human that was for sure. One flashed his eyes black, another revealed fangs. The others were turned away, not wanting to be seen, or feigning disinterest. A game was in progress at one of the tables, it came to an end when one man got to his feet with a stream of curses. He made for the door, knocking into Sam as he left. As Sam recovered Crowley stepped forward to the table and took a seat. The others quickly vacated, one man with sunglasses and a wide smile eagerly scooped up his winnings.

"Sam?" Crowley indicated to the chair opposite and hesitantly Sam went forwards to take it. Then Crowley addressed the group at the bar. "Now, this is high stakes only, we're playing for souls and more here. If you've got the goods step forward, if not, carry on drowning your sorry corpses".

The vampire took a seat, she was dressed in old fashioned clothes and had a delicate air about her, which was undoubtedly false. Then the lights started flickering. Between one flash and the next a familiar face appeared in the chair to Sam's left.

"Ah Samael. Are the theatrics really necessary?" Crowley asked in a withering tone.

The angel turned to Sam and gave him a smile that failed to reach his eyes.

"I am what I am". The angel hadn't changed since Sam last saw him. He still had the late teen vessel, with long hair tied back and black clothes. Sam momentarily wondered whether the boy had been plucked from college… whether he thought it was something cool when the 'angel of death' started talking to him.

"Yes, well… quite". Crowley clicked his fingers. Cards and chips appeared on the table. He picked up a chip and twirled it around. "These are souls. I'll be kind Sam, I'll give you a few to start with and let you warm up to the game… but when they're gone your soul goes on the table. Unless you want to put it up before of course, but I'm sure you're eager to hold on to it".

"Right, you all know the rules, no cheating, and no using powers". Crowley side eyed Samael before dividing the chips and letting Sam deal the cards. He took care to keep his hands steady as he flicked them to each player. Then Sam took up his own hand of five and pushed forwards a chip. It wasn't a particularly good set of cards, nothing to push his luck with. Maybe he could bluff… Sam looked up at his opponents, the vampire gave him a sneer, Crowley maintained his smug grin, and the angel… well, the term "poker face" was made for angels.

When it came time to raise again Sam folded. There was no point in wasting more chips… more souls. Momentarily he wondered where they had come from… _who_ they had come from. Were they dredged up from the darkest pits of hell? Were they murderers? Torturers? And here they were being traded around a table; it would be funny if it wasn't so tragically terrible… Whoever they were Crowley raked them towards his pile. The demon had won this round.

The vampire dealt the next round, ironically Sam had learned that her name was "Mercy". He wondered whether that was her name as a human, or if she had taken it as a vampire in a poor attempt at humour. She certainly didn't look the sort to be cracking jokes. Whenever her eyes turned to Sam it was to sneer or look down her nose. She seemed to disapprove of a human at the table, even if it was a Winchester. This much he had gathered from the short remarks she gave. Not much was said between them, a strained silence seemed to envelope the room, even those watching from the bar held bated breath…

This time Sam's hand was a good one. He had four of a kind, all fives, and an ace. Chips were thrown in and cards drawn.

"Bring me another whisky" Crowley shouted over his shoulder. Then he looked to the angel. "Will you not loosen up and have a drink?"

"I don't drink" Samael answered as he folded.

The betting continued. Crowley raised, as did Mercy. Sam pushed another chip forwards, painting a smug little smile on his face. Crowley glared and eventually folded with a scowl. It came down to Sam and Mercy in the end. Quietly confident Sam spread his cards on the table, though his face fell at seeing the vampire's hand. Her straight flush had him beat.

As the game went on Sam's small pile of chips kept getting smaller. Though he had a fairly good hand, and was hesitating over whether to match the raise or not.

"Come on, we're not getting any younger here". Crowley poked at him.

"We're not getting any older either". Samael deadpanned.

"So we've found our sense of humour have we?"

"Oh Crowley, you seem as a lamb but speak as a dragon". The corner of the angel's mouth almost twitched into a smile.

Those words echoed around Sam's head… _And I beheld another beast coming up out of the earth; and he had two horns like a lamb, and he spake as a dragon_… He pushed forwards one of his last chips.

It was a good move. The round was his.

But after Sam's moment of luck the game went downhill again. Samael kept making strange references and Crowley seemed to be getting more and more wound up.

"It has been long since you have seen your brother Crowley, my memory fails, was his age six hundred threescore and six?"

"Keep your eyes on the game angel". There was a threat left unspoken, though it didn't seem to bother Samael.

Sam was down to his last chip when Crowley called a break. As Sam left the table Crowley pulled him to one side.

"Oh dear, looks like your little soul's next up on the table. Don't worry, I'll put the amulet in the pot too. Where's the fun otherwise eh?"

"Or you could just give it to me now…" Sam lowered his voice. He had put two and two together with Samael's unsubtle hints. Missouri had been right.

"And why would I do that?"

"Because I know what you are… you are Therion's brother, the Second Beast". Crowley was the false prophet with a false face - a beast masquerading as a demon. It wasn't so farfetched when you considered an archangel had been moonlighting as a pagan deity.

"Well done, cookie for you. And what of it?"

Judging by Crowley's annoyance at Samael it wasn't something he wanted going public. "I'll tell them all what you really are. You think the demons will be happy having a lowly beast as the King of Hell? Think maybe they might start wanting their real daddy back? Or a real demon on the throne at least?"

"They're mine" Crowley growled under his breath. Yet he seemed on the back foot. Sam was almost shocked to see him like that.

"Shall we put that to the test? I'll go over there and reveal your little secret right now…"

Crowley quickly recovered, mask firmly back in place. "Fine, I don't care one jot. In any case, you really think they'll believe you? A Winchester?"

Samael approached then and pointed back to the table. "Gentlemen, shall we?"

Crowley and Sam glared daggers at each other, and then went to take their seats.

The cards were dealt by Samael. Sam smiled at getting four of a kind again. It was a good hand, one he could win with if luck was on his side. The smile didn't last long however, as it came time to put his soul into the pot. As he placed his finger on the chip that would represent his soul Sam felt a strange tingling deep in his chest. He pushed it forwards with a heavy heart… but Sam thought of Dean. Dean had spent his soul for Sam, and he would do the same in return.

Crowley tossed in another chip when it was his turn. Sam's eyes flashed with anger. "You said you would put the amulet in!"

"That was before certain information came to light. I don't take kindly to threats".

Sam tried to rise from the table and made to reach for his chip. "Then this is ov-"

He didn't get far, Sam was thrust back into the chair by an invisible force.

"Keep playing". Crowley growled dangerously.

Sam looked to the crowd at the bar and pointed at Crowley, unable to contain himself. "He's the Second Beast of Revelation! Therion's brother hiding behind the mask of a demon! You've all been played for fools!"

"I said – _Keep playing_" Crowley snarled. "You'll never see the amulet now, but we still need to find out what happens to your soul".

A muttering started up between the watchers at the bar, when Mercy folded she joined them. The game went on, though it wasn't long before they reached the showdown. Sweat trickled down Sam's forehead as he spread his cards over the table with a silent prayer to whoever might be listening. Crowley's cards went down and the bottom fell out of Sam's stomach - a straight flush. He stood and pointed at Sam with a roar "They're mine, and now you're mine! Go straight to hell, do not pass go, do not collect your bloody amulet!"

Sam's mind started rushing. This was it. He would end up in hell, he would never see Dean again. He had been so stupid, he should never have summoned Crowley, he should never have come here or agreed to this. Dean would be stuck in purgatory thinking Sam had given up on him… he would think Sam had left him to rot.

A small cough brought both their sets of eyes to Samael. "I think you'll find he's mine".

The angel spread his cards on the table with a flourish to reveal a royal flush. Then he raised his hand to the table and all of the chips disappeared. Sam looked on with his jaw dropped.

"I'll be taking my winnings then. Good game gentlemen, until next time…" Samael gave Crowley a conciliatory clap on the shoulder before reaching two fingers towards Sam. The last thing he saw was the group at the bar moving towards Crowley, the last thing he heard was the angry clamour of demon voices.


	4. Hope

Note: Quotes are from Apocalyptica's "Hope"

**The Hunter and the Hunted**

**Chapter 4 – Hope**

_In this heart of darkness  
Our hope lies lost and torn_

Castiel watched Dean putting another weapon together. Carefully he lashed a sharp rock to a sturdy piece of wood. They were preparing to set out again. Voxifera seemed restless and quiet. Dean was similarly so… every time Castiel tried to talk about what happened and apologise Dean would brush it off and tell the former angel that he was better now and that was all that mattered. It left Castiel with the feeling that there was a cloud hanging over them. He tried his best to blow it away while Dean tried his best to ignore that it was there. In any case, he did feel much better, still a little weak, but fresh and more than ready to take the next step towards getting out of this place. In truth there was still a small voice at the back of Castiel's mind that suggested he might like a pill or two… but it was easily pushed to one side and ignored. The voice was far from the screaming, desperate, shouting that had driven him to the brink before.

Dean got to his feet and gave a few experimental swings of his new weapon. Seeming satisfied he looked to Castiel and Voxifera with a bright expression pasted on his face. "Ok, are you guys ready? Lets do this".

-oOo-

The two humans followed Voxifera through the wood. As they went on the trees grew larger, thicker and closer together. They formed a canopy high above that only spots of light could penetrate. Dean made sure he stuck close to Voxifera, he kept an eye on Castiel too, closing a hand about the former angel's wrist when the ground became uneven. He could feel agitation rolling off the wolf as they went deeper and deeper.

"Hey Voxi, are you sure we're going the right way? If you stay away from the Hunt how do you even know where they are?"

"When you look at purgatory what do you see?" she snapped back.

"Um, I see a godforsaken endless grey wasteland… but mostly dirt and trees".

"I see much more than that. I am a part of purgatory as surely as purgatory is a part of me. The dirt and trees tell me stories, and here they speak of nothing but danger… The Hunt takes from this place as it takes from your world. They hunt souls, but take more than that; their presence takes what little light we are granted here. I look to where they dwell and see only darkness, an absence, a nothing... I can take you to the edge of that". She set her yellow eyes on Dean. "And my name is Voxifera".

Castiel huffed a slight laugh. "Take it from me, if you hang around Dean long enough you get a nickname…"

"Ok Voxi, I believe you". Dean felt as if he'd touched a nerve.

"It is not far… and there is a gorgon in the clearing ahead". Her casual tone betrayed the danger they were about to face.

"There's a _what_ now?!" Dean hissed under his breath.

"She is injured, I can smell the blood. Take hold of my tail and close your eyes. In her state she will not attack if I am with you, but there is still the danger of being turned to stone".

"Can't we go a different way?"

"There is no other way. You will be safe".

Before Dean had another chance to object Voxifera was moving forward. Quickly he grabbed her tail and took hold of Castiel's wrist once more. After closing his eyes Dean became unsure of his footsteps and tentatively shuffled along, despite the relentless pull of Voxifera.

Dean felt the oppressive trees give way around him, and a spike of fear ran through his chest as the layered hissing of snakes reached his ears. Their own snake moved confidently forwards, Voxifera at the head, Castiel at the tail. The wolf spoke with authority. "I mean you no harm, we wish to pass and we will do so with or without your blessing".

A louder serpentine voice rose over the rest to form words. "But she brings such pretty gifts before me…"

Suddenly they came to a standstill, and Voxifera spoke more firmly. "Daughter of Phorcys, stay your hand. I have no wish to injure you further, but if you do not stay your hand you will lose it".

"Mother would like such shining presents, I shall take them to her". The hissing came closer.

"They are mine, they are not for her". Suddenly Voxifera lashed out with a back leg and scored a mark against Dean's arm. He let out a yell, and felt her circle round to strike at Castiel. He also cried out at the sting of her claws. "They bear my mark; by this blood I claim them. Stay away!"

Dean got the feeling things weren't going to plan… The hissing grew to an obscene level. He imagined if they ever got through this he would only ever be able to hear hissing again. Like the ringing in his ears after sitting too close to the speakers at a bar.

"It speaks of blood and marks and claims… but she wants them, and I will take them".

He heard Voxifera give a warning snarl and then Dean felt Castiel's wrist roughly torn from his grasp. The former angel shouted his name. Then just as soon as he lost his grip on Castiel Voxifera's tail went as well. The wolf yelled at them to keep their eyes closed. Dean fought the instinct to open them and launch his own attack; he wheeled his arms around, hoping to find something… anything. That monster had Castiel, and he was helpless! Dean could take a swing with his weapon, but without being able to see he might end up striking Voxifera or Castiel. He shouted after them in frustration.

Being deprived of sight Dean felt lost and alone, as if he were adrift in the ocean. His other senses seemed to play tricks on him. Sounds of fighting were all around, growling, howling and endless hissing. He seemed to feel nameless things looming, ready to take his feet from him. Then suddenly Dean was knocked over as a body collided with his own. He was relieved to feel Castiel beneath his hands, and thankfully the former angel was flesh and not stone.

Castiel told Dean he was unhurt and insisted he was fine. Then the sound of a bone crunching wrench came from nearby. Dean cringed away as he felt a warm liquid spray over them… it was probably blood. The hissing then started to die down.

"I warned you gorgon! Crawl away and next time respect my claim!" Voxifera shouted out. Dean felt her draw close to him. "Come, the way is clear, but keep your eyes closed until I tell you otherwise".

Once again Dean grabbed Voxifera's tail and Castiel's wrist. He made sure to keep his grip especially tight this time. The wolf set a hasty pace and after a bit of stumbling Dean felt the close clammy air of the wood draw in about him again.

"Open your eyes. It is safe".

Dean opened his eyes and groaned at finding himself spattered with black blood. He looked over Castiel who was similarly stained. Then he spotted an ugly bruise flourishing on the former angel's cheek and several more on his arms. Dean moved forward and started manhandling Castiel to look at his wounds. "Hey, I thought you said you were ok!"

Castiel tried pushing Dean's hands away "I am not hurt. They're just bruises… Turns out the gorgon had a grip tighter than yours, and I landed on a rock as well as you when I got thrown to one side".

"Well it might be news to you, but bruises are still injuries". He let go of Castiel's arm with a huff and then turned to Voxifera. "You said it would be safe back there!"

"I apologise, like the mormolykeia the gorgons are outside of my influence somewhat… I thought wounded as she was she would respect me and not attack. I was wrong" She glanced at the oozing wound on Dean's arm. "And I apologise for marking you so. As a last resort I thought she might respect the claim, but she did not".

Dean frowned as he looked up and down Castiel. "Where's your 'mark' then?"

The former angel turned around to reveal a great tear down the back of his t-shirt with matching red lines on his flesh. Dean whistled "You're going to have one cool scar there… don't worry, chicks dig scars".

"At least when I leave you there may be some beasts out there who will respect the mark and leave you be. I sense a shadow on the horizon; it will not be long now before we part ways…" She looked off into the trees and almost seemed to shiver.

After patching each other up as best they could the three continued. Before long they reached a place in the wood where Voxifera abruptly came to a halt. There was nothing different about it; the trees looked just like the hundreds of trees they had passed before. No line in the dirt told of another land, no sign warned them that the Hunt was in the vicinity, but Voxifera would not go on.

"I must leave you here". She turned to the two of them, levelling each with a serious stare. "If you cannot be dissuaded from this course of action, I will tell you only this. Beware the pounding drum and sounding horn. That will be your warning - they are nearly upon you. They will emerge from a black fog, bearing black rain, their banners flying despite the dead air… Men in horned helms ride nightmare steeds and all manner of creatures run at their side. If you see this much it is too late… I have seen it and survived, but only at great cost. I would not have you pay it. So I ask again, will you seek no other way?"

Dean paused for a moment as if weighing up her words. "We could miss a chance like this and spend eternity looking for a way out… the First Beast said the Master of the Wild Hunt holds the keys to purgatory. We don't have another choice".

"Then I wish you well". With that the wolf bowed her head to them and abruptly turned tail to leave. To Dean and Castiel she seemed a shadow flying between the trees.

As Voxifera disappeared from sight Dean clapped a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "Looks like it's just you and me again".

-oOo-

Dean and Castiel walked through the hunting grounds, though it looked no different to their eyes. They walked on in silence, every time they stepped on a branch the crack rang out like a shot. Creaks and growls of unseen creatures came to them from the trees. Dean and Castiel made sure to stick close together. When the former angel slowed Dean slowed with him. Then as darkness crept in all about them the unseen creatures became glowing red eyes in the depths. They hadn't appreciated how Voxifera's presence kept these things away before. The two had become used to it, like the sun's warmth in summer, and suddenly with it gone they were feeling winter's chill. The cold of purgatory bit in to their bones like never before, and the shadowed depths became more threatening with their every step. A slight shiver flew up the spine at the feeling of beasts just out of sight… just out of reach… biding their time… The two were filled with a wakeful watchfulness. There was no time to rest or let your mind drift here. The moment your guard went down you would be set upon.

It wore on Castiel with every step. The cold and the old ache of his foot would be enough, but the constant need to be alert had him on edge and jittery. He would whirl around at the flicker of movement in the corner of his eye… Half the time it would be nothing, a stray leaf falling in the fetid landscape, but it happened to be a slavering beast of purgatory enough times for Castiel to hold his breath and raise his weapon. The former angel watched Dean ahead of him. More of a gap had opened between them, the hunter almost seemed to be settling into this altered state… he stalked the land as if a predator himself. Blood spattered his face and clothes from their last encounter with a creature. The name of it escaped Castiel, it was skeletal with paper thin skin as grey as their surroundings. For Castiel these gaps in his knowledge were one of the most frustrating things about becoming human. It felt like grains of sand slipping through his fingers… The former angel could look at some of these beasts and name them; he knew them down to their atoms and had once seen their place in creation. With others he would look at them and see a terrifying black hole… Castiel knew that he knew them once, but like a familiar face whose name you can't quite recall, the information remained stubbornly out of reach. It had scared Castiel at first; it felt as if pieces of him were missing. But now he had become used to the yawning chasm in his head it was more frustrating. The former angel didn't know what some of these things were, he didn't know their weaknesses, he couldn't point out where to strike and what to avoid… In any case, Dean had decapitated the thin skeletal one; he hewed its head from its shoulders with his primitive weapon in a primitive fashion. Beheading seemed to work on most creatures down here. Except the spiked serpentine thing that grew two heads when you cut off one… that creature they had had to burn.

After a considerable lull in attacks Castiel suggested they stop and rest up. The darkness had deepened to the point where they could hardly see their hands in front of their faces. Dean seemed focussed and eager to forge ahead, but the former angel pointed out they could be missing something if they carried on blind. Dean gave a nod and visibly relaxed, conceding the point. He wouldn't risk starting a fire so they settled down at the base of a large tree. It had many branches, the brittle bone like limbs protruded at all angles, but few leaves clung on to them. Castiel made sure to check the tree for creatures. They had been passing beneath low boughs earlier when a small lizard like thing pounced on Dean from above. It had sunk its claws deep in his shoulder and left them embedded even after they killed it. Castiel hadn't enjoyed trying to pry them out with Dean attempting to bite down his curses.

As they leaned against the tree trunk, shoulder to shoulder, Castiel looked up at Dean. "How are your wounds? Shall I check them now we have stopped?"

"Nah Cas, it's fine…" Castiel looked at Dean as if he didn't believe him. The wounds had been deep. "Okay, my shoulder's a little sore, but we've got bigger things to worry about here. Anyway, how are you holding up? Leg doing ok?"

"I am fine too". Castiel got the feeling Dean wanted to ask how he was after the withdrawal. But that was the elephant in the room he didn't want to address… Still, Castiel wanted to clear the air between them. "Dean, I have to say something".

"No Cas, you don't-"

"You must be angry with me". Castiel didn't give Dean a chance to derail him. "I don't blame you. I was weak… and after everything I should have known better. I shouldn't have taken the pills and I shouldn't have kept all this from you… I'm sorry".

"Dammit Cas, when will you stop apologising? Yeah I was angry – at first. You can be such a stupid angel sometimes, you know that? But I forgave you, and I'll forgive this too. Clean slate, ok?"

"It is not so easy to just wipe away everything that I did…" Castiel dropped his gaze to the ground, an aggrieved frown on his forehead.

"I know it's not, and you'll carry those scars for the rest of your life. But it's your choice whether you let them heal and move on, or whether you dwell and pick at them, watching the fresh blood run… geez, this place must be getting to me. Point is, you can't go back and change it. You can't go back and put the pills down; you can't go back and leave all those purgatory souls alone. All you can do is make the right decisions from now on. You know this; you told me yourself when I dragged you out of that swamp, so stop back peddling dude".

"But I let you down again. I concealed all this from you _again_". A note of anger crept into Castiel's voice. "What if I can't make the right decisions? I still feel I need…"

"I forgive you Cas. You're part of our family and life is too short to hold on to this sort of crap" Dean put his hand on the former angel's shoulder. "Don't doubt yourself, I've got faith in you… and if you ever waver, if you're struggling, then come to me. I'll always be there for you, Sammy too. I can't imagine what it's like to lose what you've lost, but I've been through some shit in my time and come out of the other side alright. You can do it".

"It must be nice… to be so sure". Castiel's voice was bitter and despondent.

"I am sure, want to know why? Because I know you Cas. I know at the end of the day you want to do the right thing. Sure sometimes it gets a little messed up, but you've got us by your side now, no dick brothers and no dick Crowley. We've all done things we're not proud of. I'm no saint for sure, but we can set each other straight, you, me and Sammy. Us against the world, right?"

"If we manage to get out of here…" Castiel looked up with a sigh.

"Dude, it's not '_if_', it's '_when_' we get out of here. See what I mean about having faith?"

A small smile started to pull at Castiel's lips then. "Dean Winchester is lecturing a former angel of the lord on faith. We must truly be at the end of times".

As Dean quietly laughed Castiel's smile quickly fell. He abruptly sat up straight, listening… "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Dean scanned the darkness, and gingerly reached for his weapon.

"Horns… that's what she said, beware the sound of horns. I hear them!" Castiel hissed with wide eyes.

"I don't hear… crap". Midsentence a distant blast sounded - A hunting horn, but deeper and throatier, a threat and a warning. "We need to get out of sight, _now_".

But as the two of them got to their feet a creeping black mist crawled along the ground. It whirled up as a creature came bounding through it. A winged lion, though it was bedraggled and harried. Its mane was hardly there and the creature's wings were dishevelled. One partially dragged along the ground, a mangled mess that made Castiel's shoulders twitch in sympathy. Names and creatures flashed through the former angel's mind, he tried desperately to fight the void and find it_… Zu?... Anzu?..._ But it was rushing straight at them, blindly fleeing. The injured wing caught Dean as it rushed by, knocking him to the ground. The beast let out a roar at the pain, and the horn sounded in response. Castiel wasted no time, he pulled Dean to his feet and they shared a brief look as if to say _'Run after the lion thing? Run after the lion thing!' _ then they were away. The pair took flight and followed the path of the hunted creature. They were at least sure that direction headed away from danger… though the pounding beat of a drum could now be heard. All around them the trees seemed to shake with the deep drum vibrations. The Hunt was gaining ground.

As the two of them ran their lungs heaved with the effort. Castiel thought he wouldn't mind being caught as long as it meant he could breathe again. His foot screamed at him to stop, the old misaligned bones protesting at the strain he was putting them under… but Dean kept him going. Dean's pace was steady and strong at Castiel's side. The former angel was sure he could break out and run ahead if he wanted to, part of Castiel willed him to do just that and save himself, but Dean stuck stubbornly at Castiel's side. Though the former angel was struggling the lion creature seemed to be doing worse. It kept losing ground and dropping back. Castiel could reach out and touch it at this distance… the beast's mouth was agape, tongue lolling, the sound of its damaged wing scraping the ground made Castiel wince. He knew the pain such fragile appendages could bring. Though the creature seemed beyond acknowledging pain now, it just ran, dead eyed and dead limbed. It dropped further back, behind Dean and Castiel. The horns and drums were a dreadful cacophony, the ground shook and the earth rumbled heralding the arrival of a great number of horsemen. Then suddenly a solitary lance split the air coming from an unseen hand in the darkness. With a great thunk it settled into the flesh of the winged lion, bringing the pursuit to a halt. The creature exhaled a groan, hardly seeming to have the energy to cry out. Castiel stole a look over his shoulder, seeing the beast lying on the ground amid a bed of dead leaves. It almost looked relieved to finally rest as it disappeared into the creeping mist…

Dean grasped Castiel's arm and yelled "Keep going!"

He wasn't sure that he could. In angelic form Castiel could run forever, although of course running was largely unnecessary as an angel. As a human his lungs burned, his heart beat wildly in his chest and his foot begged him to stop. Jimmy had been no athlete, and although Castiel had started hunting with the Winchesters it would take a lot more conditioning to get him as fit as they were. Even so, Dean appeared to be reaching his limit. Sweat streamed down the hunter's face and he seemed to be slowing. Castiel had reached his limit and was going well beyond it. His side was burning as well as his lungs. He felt his body was going to give up at any moment.

"Ca… can we… stop?" Castiel couldn't seem to get his words out, drawing in breath was more important than talking.

Dean took a look over his shoulder and slowed a little more. There was no ominous mist and the sounds of horn and drum had faded. It seemed they had left the Hunt behind. The two of them finally stopped and looked back, making sure they truly were alone. Castiel instantly dropped to his knees, panting and gasping, he never imagined just stopping and resting could be sweeter than the mercy of Heaven. Dean wiped an arm over his red faced brow, and then wrestled himself out of his jacket, throwing it down beside Castiel. He still seemed to be on alert, scrutinising the darkness they had just emerged from… not quite trusting the silence.

As Dean turned back to face Castiel he frowned and looked over the former angel's head. Still panting Castiel sat up and followed Dean's gaze. There seemed to be a single solitary flickering light in the distance… a candle?

"What the hell is that?" Dean huffed out.

"Careful…" Castiel struggled to speak between each breath. "… ignis fatuus, there are many creatures that lure travellers away with a light".

"Yeah… if only Sam were here. He'd probably have a shelf full of books on them, all indexed and coloured in highlighter. Come on, let's check it out". Dean picked up his jacket and offered a hand to pull up Castiel. "You ok to carry on?"

Castiel let Dean pull him up and then he took a few experimental steps. He had just about recovered, but there was still an ache in his foot that betrayed him with a limp. "I'll be ok".

Dean gave Castiel a look that said he didn't believe him.

"My foot's a little sore, but we've got bigger things to worry about here". Castiel levelled a look at Dean as he fired the hunter's own words back at him.

"Fair enough, as I told Sam once - you're tough for a little nerdy dude with wings".

"… without wings" Castiel corrected.

"Yeah well, cars are better than wings any day. I hate flying". Dean clapped a hand on Castiel's shoulder and carefully started walking towards the light.

Castiel gingerly limped after him. As they got closer another light joined the first, then another and another. Dean suddenly stopped, and as Castiel drew up alongside him he exhaled a harsh breath at the sight before them. The lights were candles, and they lit up a dark clearing. The candles were arranged all around it and then in a line down the centre of a long stone table. High backed chairs surrounded it, and a layer of dust and dirt gave them the impression it was abandoned for the most part. It had the air of Miss Havisham's lonely decaying room, waiting for a wedding that would never happen. But here the clearing was not abandoned; the banquet the table had long been set for was now taking place. Dull, tarnished plates held seeping meats that Castiel didn't want to guess at, and while it was hard to tell what the chalices held the liquid looked to be dark and thick. It probably wasn't wine. The chairs were occupied by men clothed in leather and thick furs, helms obscured the features of their faces. Each was decorated differently, but most had horns of a sort protruding from them... curved, straight, or curled like a ram. All that could be seen of the men beneath were their mouths and eyes shining bright from between holes in their helms… eyes that were a piercing, unnatural ice blue. And all were turned upon Dean and Castiel. This is what they had been seeking, but all instinct told them to turn tail and run. Castiel tried to find his voice and ask Dean what they should do, but he opened his mouth and no sound came out. Dean seemed transfixed and rooted to the spot.

At the head of the table sat a man greater than all others. He was clad in accoutrements of bone with a grey fur about his shoulders that seemed to shift colour in the light, waning to a pale shade before returning to slate. His helm was the most elaborate of them all, it seemed more a skull with antlers that branched and ended in lethal points. He was surely the Master of the Hunt, his eyes were a paler ice blue, nearly white… and as he stood to break the silence Dean and Castiel almost stepped back so great was his presence.

The Master spread his arms wide and spoke with a voice that had a rich sinister quality to the tone, though it seemed old and cracked as the crunching of dry tree branches underfoot. "Welcome to our table, Dean Winchester, Righteous Man. I have looked forward to our meeting, will you take a seat?"

Immediately the man to his right vacated his chair. Dean looked back worriedly to Castiel who simply gave a wide eyed stare with a slight shrug. The former angel didn't know what to make of this. His instincts were still telling him to run. He had the feeling they were walking into the lion's den, it seemed a trap, a cage to contain them… Castiel wasn't sure they would get out again. Yet the Master apparently had their ticket to earth, and Castiel would not deny Dean a chance to return home. Maybe it would be best not to refuse the Master's hospitality…

Dean seemed to be waging the same war with himself, but eventually he walked forward warily and sat down in the high backed chair. He looked out of place, almost like a small child at a table of giants. The Master's attention turned on Castiel then, his manner turned cold.

"Castiel, Creature of Heaven, Devourer of Purgatory, you have much to answer for. Why should I welcome you to my table?"

The former angel's mouth went dry, he opened it to offer some explanation, but could find no words that would sate the Huntsman.

"Because I'm asking you to". Dean seemed to have recovered his wits and stepped in to Castiel's relief.

The Master settled his gaze on Dean for a few moments, regarding him carefully. Then without a word being said the man to his left made his exit. Castiel came forward to take the empty chair. He was glad to get the weight off his foot, it had settled into an angry throb, but he felt he had just placed his neck a little further into the hangman's noose. At this proximity the Master's presence seemed a choking blanket of despair. The Hunt at the table all around them set the former angel's skin crawling. He felt trapped, like he couldn't breathe… Castiel met Dean's eyes across the table, he tried to give a reassuring nod, but the former angel could tell he felt unsettled beneath the well rehearsed mask of bravado.

"So I have the great Dean Winchester sitting at my table… You are a fine hunter, even among the finest of hunters. It is truly an honour to have you here".

"Fantastic, would you like me to autograph something?" Dean's words were bold but Castiel noted they were not accompanied by his usual irreverent grin.

The Master turned a dangerous smile on Dean, and then abruptly he looked up at the staring hoard around the table. "Let the feast continue!"

At once they all set upon their plates with a vigour reserved for starved lions. The Master held up a hand and one of his hunters came forward to fill Castiel's plate and chalice. "I have come across many of your victims on this plane. Indeed I have pursued them myself and even claimed some for the Hunt".

Castiel noticed Dean was looking at the hunter serving them very carefully. When he went to fill Dean's cup recognition lit up his eyes. "Son of a bitch… Gordon".

"One of your brother's victims yes? A perfect hunter in his own right. Gordon here is one of my best, a killer, pure and merciless". The Master held a hand up, as if showing off his prize stud at the fair.

"Gordon? Can you hear me man?" Dean got no response from the mute hunter with his ice blue eyes. "You were one hell of a douchenozzle topside you know that?" Even insults couldn't draw out a reaction. Once he had finished pouring Gordon stood still as a statue.

"He does not remember you or what he did… The Hunt is his life now". The Master waved a hand, dismissing Gordon from the table. "Now eat, drink".

Dean looked at the food and then up at Castiel with a questioning glance. Castiel gave him a warning look and a slight shake of the head in return. There was no telling what the food or drink was laced with. Gaining control through poison was not unheard of. Castiel had a sudden vision of Dean, dead eyed and mute, serving at the table.

"Um, it's ok, I'm not hungry…" Dean pushed the plate away, his false sense of bravado holding up.

An air of intimidation drew around the Master of the Hunt then. "You would refuse my hospitality Dean Winchester? You honour me with your presence and then insult me so?"

"I don't mean to insult you…"

"Then take a drink". The Master's words were hard; he had drawn closer to Dean, a dark glare and pale eyes filled his vision.

Dean's hand slowly crept forwards towards the cup. Castiel willed him not to take it, but Dean's fingers tentatively gripped the chalice. The former angel shook his head again, uttering a warning "_Dean_".

The Master turned to face him then, Castiel shot back in his seat. "Will you not partake of my table either angel?" A threatening grin lit up the Master's features. "You appoint yourselves agents of fate and you should not. Let the man choose his own fate. Castiel, you are the worst of your kind. You crowned yourself God, decimated your own kin, and slaughtered the humans you were meant to protect. Heavenly creature, you placed yourself so high, the fall must have hurt greatly… now you are nothing, and you sit at _my_ table, you bow to _me_".

After the onslaught Castiel was rendered mute, his mind reeling. Throughout the spewing of vitriol Dean had picked up the cup, he seemed in a daydream and oblivious to the Master's words. Castiel turned to see Dean raise the chalice to his lips. The world seemed to stop as he took a sip. As Dean swallowed heavily the cup was placed back on the table with a thunk, its dark liquid sloshed against the sides. Castiel watched Dean worriedly, the hunter winced at the taste of it, but his face visibly relaxed and he gave a reassuring nod to the former angel. Castiel let out the breath he had been holding, but he would still not take up his own drink.

The Master resumed casual conversation as if he had never savagely ravaged Castiel with words. "I see you have met my lady wolf. You bear her mark… I would dearly like her pelt. She is an elusive trophy". He eyed Castiel then. "Pity you are an angel no longer. I would have your wings as well; they would make a fine addition to my collection".

Castiel swallowed heavily and tried to shrink into his chair. He wanted nothing more than to get out of there. It was a mistake to sit at the table with the Wild Hunt; they were entirely at the Master's mercy now. He seemed to have warmed to Dean, but Castiel was clearly an object for his ire. The former angel had the feeling of a snare closing about his neck. He would rather escape before it choked him.

"Now if you don't mind I'm going to get straight down to business". Dean leaned forward, no nonsense mode engaged. "I'm reliably informed that you hold the keys to Purgatory and I want out of this hellhole".

"It is true I may cross the realms and hunt upon the earth… but if you seek to strike a bargain, and I let you cross with us, what will you do for me in return?" The Master leaned on the table and steepled his hands, staring at Dean keenly.

Dean hesitated then, for a moment Castiel thought he would forge into the familiar territory of dealing away souls. But the Master of the Hunt cut in with a suggestion first.

"Join us on a hunt. It would be a great honour to have you at my side in the chase. Then you may cross with us".

"Cas gets to cross too". Dean put forward immediately.

"Of course… of course… now what do you say?"

Dean met Castiel's eyes across the table. The former angel gave him a look full of warning. He did not trust the Master one bit, but it was hard to convey his thoughts in a glance… if only he were an angel still! Castiel almost breathed a sigh of relief at Dean's next words.

"Um, can I have a word with my friend here? Alone".

"Certainly, you are my honoured guest and most welcome to wander where you will. I have no secrets to hide".

At that Dean stood and gave the Master a small smile and a nod as a mark of respect. He walked off to one side and Castiel eagerly followed.

-oOo-

Dean moved away from the table and the clearing. As he made his way through the trees he came across strange floating wisps of light. They gave out a suffuse illumination and a gentle chiming sound as they wound around the thick trunks and off into the distance. Dean stopped and waited until their glow had died away before turning to Castiel. The former angel seemed anxious and on edge.

"You should not agree to join them" Castiel said as soon as Dean met his eyes. "I don't trust the Hunt and I certainly don't trust the Master".

"I'm not sure what other choice we have here Cas…"

"I can't quite recall the Hunt… my memories are fractured, they were of another pantheon anyway… not our concern". The former angel's frustration was mounting and then he stopped with a sigh. "Nevermind what I've forgotten. All I know is that the Wild Hunt was never a force for good in our world".

"Good or bad I don't care as long as they've got a way out. If we make a deal, and make it right, we can get out". Dean spoke animatedly, trying to get his sense of hope across to Castiel.

"And what makes you think he won't find a loophole? Once he has you, are you sure he'll let you go?"

"Like I say, if we make the deal right… Look Cas, we've got a shot at getting out of here. You know how tough it was to break into Purgatory. I'm guessing Sam's not making much progress on that front. It's obviously not that easy to break through from this side either. There is a way out right here in front of us, heck it might be the only way out we can use for all we know. I'm not about to let that slide".

"But you're nothing but a trophy to him Dean! Do you want to be paraded about like Gordon? A hunting dog on a leash at his side…" Castiel gazed up at Dean with sad eyes. Then he looked off into the trees and back again. "We should go, right now. Let's just run. We might be able to make it".

Dean sighed and wiped a hand over his face. "Do you really think he's going to let us walk away that easily?"

"So you admit he likely has malicious intent?"

"Well I'm sure he's not going to send us away with pat on the head and a gift basket each… Cas, if he won't let me go then I'll break free of him. Sam shook off Lucifer so I'm sure I can beat a two bit Elmer Fudd wannabe. Have a bit of faith in me dude… eesh, this is like the Michael thing all over again".

"I have faith in you. I just don't want you to underestimate him…" Castiel sighed as if reluctant to give in. "… but if this is truly the path you wish to walk, I will be behind you every step of the way".

"I don't know that it's the path I want to walk… feels like a corner we've been backed into. Still, all that stands between us and freedom is the Master of the Hunt. Let's cut him down hey?"

With their course set and decision made Dean led them back to the banquet. Despite his brave words he couldn't help but feel like a man walking to his execution.

-oOo-

As Castiel stepped back into the clearing behind Dean he noted the table was cleared and the huntsmen were gone. Only the Master stood at the head of the table.

"So, will you hunt with me Dean Winchester?"

Dean approached the Master of the Hunt warily. "I will… if you let us cross, _both_ of us. And release me when we reach earth. You are to let me go freely… no tricks".

"I almost feel you don't trust me… I agree, the terms are set then. Come forward".

Castiel hung back and watched with trepidation as Dean stood before the Master of the Wild Hunt. He seemed a peasant kneeling before a monarch. The Master reached out a hand to Dean's forehead and whispered a chant under his breath. A black mist wound around his fingers and eventually snaked through tendrils of Dean's hair… Dean's head dropped forward as the Master pulled back his hand.

Then casually the Master looked up at the former angel, pinning him with a pale eyed stare. "Run Castiel".

"I'm sorry?" Castiel wasn't sure what he meant…

"I told you to run. There are only two ways to cross realms with the Hunt. Either you cross as a hunter like Dean here, or you cross as our prey. Dean has graciously agreed to hunt with us, and now we have our prey". The Master waved a hand in Castiel's direction. "This has worked out quite well don't you think? I am being kind enough to give you a head start. Now run".

As alarming as this revelation was Castiel's first thought was that he couldn't leave Dean. He looked at Dean's back and willed him do something… say something. The hunter slowly turned his head to look at Castiel and as he did so the former angel's heart lurched in his chest. A pair of ice blue eyes stared at him coldly with an expression that said Dean wanted nothing more than to slit Castiel's throat and watch him bleed out on the ground.

That scared Castiel more than anything else… That set him running like the hounds of hell were at his heels… As Castiel crashed into the line of trees the only sound he could hear was the pounding of drums at his back.

-oOo-

_And in this heart of darkness  
Our hope lies on the floor_

When the white flash faded from Sam's vision he found himself in a field. The grass was long, it swept at his knees in the wind. There didn't seem to be another soul around for miles. Only a hawk screeched overhead, rising up on warm air swelling beneath its wings.

Samael stood in front of Sam, both fists held out. "Choose".

Sam wasn't sure what he was doing, but he cautiously pointed at the angel's right hand all the same.

Samael's fist opened to reveal the chip. "I believe this is yours".

He held it out to Sam, and as soon as Sam took the chip it turned to ash. It gave off a spark of warmth and a strange electrical buzz ran up his arm. "Thank you…"

Though Sam was relieved his soul was safe he still felt disappointed. He was back at square one… or behind square one. Crowley wasn't going to give him a chance to get the amulet now. He had blown it. Sam looked up at Samael. The young eyes of his vessel were marred with the eons seen by an angel. And this was no ordinary angel, he was an ambiguous force… one that dealt with demons, and yet retrieved Sam's soul. Sam had looked into the lore surrounding Samael after their first encounter with him, when the angel had cut away Castiel's Lucifer tainted grace. It was sometimes hard to separate truth from legend but he was seen as both good and evil. Apparently he stopped Abraham sacrificing his son, but he also did more than just _deal_ with demons… Sam couldn't pin him down, apparently nobody could. Would he help? A request for aid was on the tip of Sam's tongue when the angel's impassive stare broke.

"You know Crowley and yet you brazenly sit at _his_ table to play _his_ game. That was a dangerous and bold move, one worthy of heroes or fools. Whatever the outcome here he always intended to keep the amulet and obtain your soul. Crowley will not underestimate you. As for me… well, Crowley thinks he knows every chess piece on the board. Only he does not realise I am not on the board. I am not even sitting in opposition to him. My place is not in the game… Overconfidence gives Crowley a blind spot".

Samael held up his left fist, the one Sam didn't choose. Slowly he opened it, a soft glow shone from between his long fingers… and there sitting on his open palm was the amulet.

"This trinket has passed through many hands and it has meant many things to many people. Perhaps its most precious role was a gift from one child to another. There is nothing purer than that. It was forged in blood and purified with innocence. Then I tempered the amulet with grace from the angel who found it worthless. It is as much my creation as yours now, and I see that it contains much that will help you and much that will hinder you... When events unfold you will often wonder whether I intended good or ill in giving it to you. But so much is still uncertain, and in the end my intentions are irrelevant, you will see… what is, is what must be".

The angel's hand reached forward offering the amulet to Sam. He took it, noting the weight… he never remembered it being this heavy. It was pleasantly warm with a glistening shine. Though he could detect something deeper… something darker… like still water concealing dangers beneath. Still, he closed his fist about it and met the eyes of the angel again.

"Thank you… but why? Why are you giving it to me?" Sam just couldn't understand. This uncertain angel with uncertain intentions was giving him what he wanted and asking for nothing in return. It didn't feel right.

"All I can descry is that you must both be on this plane. Your separation is a dead end the world cannot abide. So seek your brother, bring him back, Castiel too. The three of you are intertwined with this world in ways I cannot imagine… I gave you the amulet not because I want events to unfold for good or ill. I am just ensuring that events unfold. We must keep moving forwards. Without destiny or fate we are a ship adrift in stormy waters… I do what I can to keep it going, whatever the direction. Still, even without fate some things cannot be changed… some icebergs cannot be avoided". That was said with a meaningful look…

Sam was tired of such talk. He didn't want to wrestle with questions of fate and destiny, or icebergs and sinking ships… He just wanted his brother back.

"Look, we already stopped the apocalypse. Free will won over fate and destiny. It's over, I'm done with the big picture stuff. I only want to rescue my brother and my friend, go home, and have a little time to enjoy the world we saved. Haven't we earned that much? So please… just tell me how to get them back".

"You may be done with the world Sam Winchester, but the world is not done with you. Good deeds do not always reap reward, and the wicked are not always punished. There is no karma. You have earned nothing. What is, is what must be". Samael raised two fingers and approached Sam.

"The ritual Castiel used can be altered. Let me show you…" He touched Sam's forehead. "Using the amulet will pull Dean and Castiel out instead of throwing the doors open to all souls, but be careful, they will still try to fight their way through… I am sure you have learnt from the mistakes of your friend".

As the angel spoke Sam's mind was assaulted by images and sounds. Symbols rushed by, chanting echoed in his head, and there was blood… so much blood. Demon blood. Sam opened his eyes and recoiled back from the angel's touch. "Demon blood? I need to use demon blood?!"

"You need to _drink_ demon blood. The way in which we alter the ritual will require power of you. There need be no virgin blood, nor a lunar eclipse. The power needs to come from you, and pure human will not be enough to fuel a portal as well as fight off any wayward creatures intent on escape".

Sam breathed hard. He had vowed never to touch the stuff again. But he had also vowed to do whatever it took to free Dean… He could detox afterwards. He had done it before. What was a little pain when it meant he got his brother back? "Ok… I'll do it".

"Then good luck Sam Winchester… I cannot yet tell whether you are the hero or the fool. Maybe you will prove to be a heroic fool, or even a foolish hero. Only time will tell".

"Can you-"

Before Sam had a chance to ask the angel to zap him to civilisation Samael had disappeared with that familiar flap of wings.

"Crap".

With another flap of wings the hawk soaring above dived into a stoop. It disappeared into the long grass, bringing death to its prey. As he watched the display of hunter and hunted Sam's mind turned to draining demons, and an old longing awoke deep in his heart…


	5. The Rhythm of the Falls

Note: I just want to say thank you to everyone leaving reviews, they're appreciated so much, you're all awesome :D

Now the quotes for this chapter are from Woodkid's "Iron". I demand you all immediately go watch the vid, because it's amazing. (Tack "watch?v=vSkb0kDacjs"  
on to Youtube"). Turn that mother up to HD, full screen it, and increase the volume. So powerful, enjoy :D You might be able to tell it quite heavily influenced me...

*Pauses for four minutes and taps foot* Right, you've watched the vid? Ok, back to the story...

**The Hunter and the Hunted**

**Chapter 5 – The Rhythm of the Falls**

_I'm waiting for the call  
The hand on the chest  
I'm ready for the fight  
And fate_

The world had been reduced to putting one foot in front of the other as fast as possible. It was difficult for Castiel when one of his feet didn't want to cooperate. But he ran or he died, and that's all it came down to. So Castiel kept running with his lungs screaming and his foot aching. It had seemed easier before, when Dean was running alongside him. Dean lent him the strength to keep going. And now he was alone the voice at the back of his head happened to mention how much easier this would be with pills to deaden the pain in his foot. Castiel would have sobbed out a cry if he had the breath to do so… not _that_, not _now_, on top of everything else! It seemed Dean kept him strong in more ways than one. But Dean wasn't running with Castiel, he was running after him. Castiel inwardly cursed, he knew the Master was not to be trusted, he should have insisted they try to escape. Now Dean was under the Master's influence, and Castiel could only hope he was capable of breaking free.

The former angel was starting to flag, he ran off at angles, trying to make a more confusing trail. The sound of a horn blast renewed his vigour momentarily, but he couldn't keep this up. His direction became more haphazard, there was no plan, no elaborate trail; he didn't know where he was going… he was just running away. He ran through broken trees with raised roots designed to trip the unwary. Castiel leapt to the clear spots, trying to avoid them, but on landing heavily his leg buckled beneath him and he fell to the ground with an audible 'oof'. The former angel gasped, trying to pull air back into his burning lungs. Part of him just wanted to lie there, breathe, and be caught. But a black mist filtered towards him through the trees. Castiel's eyes widened and he scrambled to his feet as it reached his ankles. He launched himself forward, every step sending lightning up his leg, but Castiel tried to ignore it and carry on. He told himself it was just nerves sending messages to his brain, he didn't have to succumb to it, he didn't have to feel it. But he felt it… this was his body now, not a vessel and it was not so easy to separate sensations like that.

The drum beat became louder at Castiel's back. The horn blew more urgently and drops of rain began to pelt him. On holding a hand up to his face the former angel saw the droplets marked his skin with black. He let out a sharp cry of alarm, mind reeling, assaulted by flashes of leviathans and lakes, but still he ran. The ground at Castiel's feet became churned by the onslaught, making already shaky footsteps more unsteady. He couldn't tell if it was rain or tears making his face wet. He just ran, spurred on by the thought of a lance coming from Dean's hand to strike him down. Castiel could almost feel the cold metal tip embed itself in his back as he crashed to the ground. Still, a thought couldn't keep this body going, he was nearing the end, as the lion had before him. Jaw hanging open, limbs becoming leaden. The former angel would collapse to the ground with barely a sound. The rumble of distant thunder told of horse hooves striking the earth. It was nearly time.

Up ahead Castiel could see the ground fall away into a gully. This would be it, this was where he would fall gracelessly to the ground. He couldn't possibly leap to the other side. Instead Castiel would fall, he was always falling it seemed; at least if he broke his neck on the way down he wouldn't have to die at Dean's hand.

Stealing a quick glance behind, Castiel saw the group of horsemen advancing through the trees. They all had black steeds with foaming mouths; their spittle flew through the air as they tossed their heads in agitation. The horses seemed as eager and bloodthirsty as their riders. One leather clad hunter spurred his horse on, cold blue eyes glared beneath his horned helm as he left the group. Castiel ran on, hoping he could reach the gully before the rider reached him. He could hear it coming up fast on his right side, the horse didn't sound like a horse, it groaned and roared furiously. Then suddenly it flew past. Castiel momentarily met the animal's eye and caught a deep red glow in its black depths. Then it was ahead, and jumping the gully easily to stand on the other side. The rider held it, a hurricane in a butterfly net, the horse angrily pawed the ground and reared to strike at the air. They blocked him off. Castiel whirled his head to either side at the sound of snapping branches and hooves. Through the trees he caught snatches of riders. They were boxing him in. The horse on the other side of the gully reared and roared, its coat was ragged and scarred, stained by a seeping dark liquid. The rider held aloft a black banner with crossed keys, its cruelly spiked end was lowered toward Castiel as he reached the edge. And as he wavered, teetering on an endless moment, recognition lit up the former angel's eyes. "Dean!" But Castiel had lost his footing and fell. The hunter's name was the last word on his lips as he plummeted down the gully. He momentarily felt the instinct to snap out his wings before a white light flashed before him. Castiel thought he saw the green of another world before he scrunched his eyes and braced for impact.

"Oof" Castiel hit the ground hard, he splayed out his hands and was surprised to feel lush grass beneath them. Opening his eyes he smiled with sheer relief. There was a blue sky, green grass, and _fresh air_. Castiel had eventually become used to the stale fetid rot of purgatory, only he hadn't realised it until this moment when breathing suddenly seemed so sweet. Gingerly he got to his feet, holding an arm up to shield his eyes against the sun. Castiel really didn't mind the too bright glare, he took a moment to enjoy the warmth against his skin. The joy of being back on earth didn't last long however, Castiel's thoughts turned to Dean. Had he made it back too? Where was he? Did he get left behind? The former angel spotted a road up ahead and started walking. He supposed the first step was to work out where he was and contact Sam.

The former angel didn't get very far however, a flash of light and blast of air had him on his hands and knees in the grass again. Castiel looked back and dread gripped his heart, the Hunt had appeared. He choked back a gasp seeing Dean amongst them, banner held high. Scrambling to his feet Castiel ran for the road as fast as he could, he was far from recovered but at least the ground didn't hinder him here. The sudden movement seemed to grab their attention and their pursuit began again. Like a dog suddenly catching sight of a fleeing rabbit. However the pursuit was over almost as soon as it began. The flat open space made it child's play to cut the former angel down. Castiel heard a rider coming up alongside, and then he felt a sharp blow to the back of his head as the hunter flew past. Hitting the ground for the third time Castiel landed in front of the road sign. His fuzzy vision had time to read "Cass Lane" before everything faded to black.

-oOo-

Castiel was awakened by an ache behind his eyes and a throb in his foot. As he gradually came to awareness he heard a ruined voice merrily sing "In summer times do beesie flew, maple pines and grackles coo. The grassies sweet with nectars dew, til harvest time when Him eat you".

The former angel sat up slowly and looked around. He was in a cage, the bars looked old and rusted, but Castiel guessed there were more than just bars keeping him in. The owner of the voice came across to him then. A hunched old woman wrapped in brown hooded garments… though Castiel felt she was far from human. Her wide, sickly, amber stained eyes settled on him with the focussed gaze of a hawk. "It's awake, it is. The new one… my new one to keeps".

She had a strange manner of speech, a sort of pidgin English. It took Castiel's brain a moment to catch up. "Who are you?"

"I am me". She offered him a cracked smile, as if pleased at answering his question. "I am the keeper, I keeps the ones he trappers. He trappered you little birdsie".

"You must have a name".

"No name, I just be me". Her smile fell and her brow knit. "Names are not for me. Not now… he trappers you and takes you. Takes your names eventually".

Castiel suddenly felt a pang of pity for the creature. Had she been one of the hunted? His first thought was to find information, find out how to use her, trick her, maybe even kill her, and now he felt a little sorry for the creature before him… but maybe pity would be misplaced. If she was put in charge of the prisoners she must be more formidable than she looked at first sight.

"Where is the Master of the Hunt? I want to talk to him".

"The Woodsie Lord does not talk when little birdsie wants to talk. The trappered ones make no demands… He says if little birdsie does not behave I cans eater his flesh fingers". She dropped her hungry gaze to Castiel's hands and the pity he felt before quickly drained away.

The former angel brought his hands up to grab at the bars and pushed forward, in a threatening gesture… Though she did not flinch nor back away. "We had a deal!"

"Your man fool made a deal. Your man fool pays the price" With that she turned and shuffled away.

The strange keeper woman went to the cage across from Castiel. He sighed, noting it held the winged lion they had crossed paths with earlier. It lay flat and defeated on the floor of its cage, a sad sight for a being so proud. The lion didn't even twitch when the keeper opened his cage to place a bowl of water inside. The former angel noted more cages scattered about between the trees. No doubt they held more prisoners, more victims of the Hunt. They seemed to be in a thickly wooded area. The trees blocked much of the sunlight from above, but at least the thins rays that danced across the forest floor told him he was out of purgatory. Castiel had never felt such frustration. That freedom was so near and yet so far. He felt he could scream and never stop.

Castiel shook the bars and growled. Achieving nothing he slumped and leaned against the bars of his cage with a sigh. He needed to get out, and he needed to get Dean. Presumably Dean was off with the Hunt, brainwashed… he was caged by other means. There must be some way to bring him back to himself. Castiel's frantic mind worked through every possibility, from attacking the keeper and running, to standing firm and challenging the Master of the Hunt. Nothing seemed easy… everything seemed impossible. Deep in thought Castiel didn't notice time pass and the night fall. The former angel came to awareness when a heavy set of footsteps advanced and the Master of the Hunt stood before him. Castiel couldn't stop himself from leaping to his feet and yelling. "We had a deal!"

"A deal for you both to cross, and here you are".

"You said you would let him go!"

At that the Master beckoned somebody forward from the shadows. _Dean_. He stood before Castiel, ramrod straight. His eyes, ice blue and so _wrong_ stared through the ex-angel.

"Dean! Fight him!" But there was no reaction from the hunter. "Please Dean, you are your own master. Fight!"

The Master held up a hand, requesting silence. "Dean Winchester, you are free to go. I release you from my service, do you wish to leave?"

"No. I wish to hunt; I do not wish to leave your service". Dean's voice was dead. It shattered Castiel's heart to hear those words.

"Yes you do! We need to go Dean! We're home. We're back on earth and Sam's waiting for you. You want to see Sam don't you?" Castiel reached forward through the bars, straining to touch Dean, trying to break the spell.

Then came words that stepped on the shattered pieces of Castiel's heart and ground them into dust… "Who is Sam?"

"Don't say that! If you forget me, your parents… even if you forget your _own_ name you will still remember him!" Castiel pushed forward, straining to reach Dean, gritting his teeth with the effort.

"Enough! Leave us and ready yourself. This land is rich with prey and we ride out soon". The Master dismissed Dean with a wave of his hand then looked back to Castiel. "I cannot release Dean if he does not want to be released. He lives for the hunt, he always has done. It is his nature, Dean is where he belongs".

Castiel's outstretched hand dropped as he watched Dean's figure retreat into darkness. "Why are you doing this?" The former angel's voice sounded hollow, defeated.

"I could give you much rhyme and reason angel. But each path leads to one answer: The thrill of the chase. Dean knows it as well as I do. The moment when you catch sight of your prey and your heart sings with the pursuit, your blood thrumming in time with the movement of the steed beneath you. Surrounded by your countless brethren, all intent on the same end, you feel alive…"

As the Master spoke Castiel felt himself transported. He was seated in a saddle, a lively horse beneath him. Men were all around on their own mounts. Then with the blast of a horn an electric impulse shocked through them all and they took off. Hooves thunderous upon the ground, Castiel's heart straining against his chest. He wasn't sure if this was the moment he would die or the moment he was being brought to life. But the longer they went on the surer he became that this was life. Henceforth every second spent with his feet on the ground would be an unbearable death. As they moved at breakneck speed the air battering Castiel's face was the pure breath of life. He was sure that the wind of Heaven was that blowing between his horse's ears.

The Master was still speaking as Castiel came back to himself "… and the only sadness from the blood of your prey is that it is over. But take heart, nothing ends. New quarry will cross your path and the chase begins again".

Castiel found himself sitting splayed on the floor of his cage, looking up at the Master, wide eyed and gasping.

"You gave us quite the pursuit yourself. It was most enjoyable. And now here you are… my trophy on display".

"Let us go, please…" Castiel managed to whisper.

"You think me a common fisherman? One who would throw back his hard won catch? No, you are mine now. Once we have finished hunting these lands we will return to purgatory. Eventually you will forget Dean, as he has forgotten you, and I will be your only Master".

"He's not my Master, he's my _friend_".

"And yet you follow at his heels like a hound". Those words brought back a distant memory, the voice of another horseman _'You set your dog on me…' _Castiel shook his head and offered a defiant glare. "This has been most pleasant, but I have business to attend to. Goodbye for now angel".

As the Master stalked away the keeper woman scampered over, as if she was wary of being in his presence. Castiel fixed an eye on her "What business is he attending to?"

"No concern of the little birdsie, but it is the witcher of these woods. She deals with the Woodsie Lord, has done for many many years, since before me. The witcher will come soon, she will like the little birdsie, he shineses".

The keeper reached into her robes and drew out a key. She had a bowl of water for him… Castiel would not be as docile as the lion. "Where are we?"

"Knaresborough, England. It asks lots of questions it does…" As she opened the door Castiel made to rush at her. He didn't get far. From beneath her robes came numerous roots and long winding branches. They slammed into him and wrapped around his limbs. Castiel stilled with the shock of it, before trying to fight back. The appendages wound and flexed but were rough with bark. He knew now for certain the keeper wasn't human. His flailing only caused her to tighten her grip, vines and leaves snaking out to wrap around Castiel's throat. Sensing defeat he stilled again, though there was little he could do ensnared as he was.

"Does it want to loser its fingers? Maybe it will offer up a flesh eye? It only needses one to see". A thorned tendril crept down the side of the former angel's face in a mocking caress. Then the vines around his throat tightened, cutting off his breath. Castiel tried to bring his arms up, but they were held firmly in the keeper's grasp, he couldn't move an inch. The world seemed to blur around the edges… "Sleepsie now".

-oOo-

"Wake up".

Castiel opened his eyes and let them lazily drift until they settled on the face before him. It was another woman beneath a robe, younger but with creased lines telling of the onset of middle age. His fingers brushed at his neck, it felt sore and was surely bruised.

"So you are the fallen angel? He was right… you are something to behold".

"Let me guess, you're the witch?" Castiel croaked out.

"Yes, well, that is the simplest way of putting it… The locals call me Mother Shipton, but Ursula Southeil is my name".

"A pleasure to meet you Ursula, if I may call you that". Castiel added a hint of sarcasm to his voice as he pushed himself upright.

"You may, Castiel, Angel of Thursday".

"Not so angelic now… human in fact. There is nothing to behold here, release me or leave me be". Castiel answered bitterly.

"Oh Castiel, you do yourself a disservice" She stepped forward and wrapped her hand around a bar. A dark blue robe cloaked much of her features. She seemed to speak with a kindly voice. "Fallen though you are you will never be human, not really. You were not born to this body… it is not yours; another man owned it before you. Castiel your grace is gone but there is something so bright in you still. And though your wings are no more I can see where they once were, a ghost…" Her eyes skirted the air around Castiel's back. He twitched nervously, she had indeed traced the outline of his former wingspan. But he wouldn't allow himself to indulge in the possibility he could be something more than human, he knew it wasn't so.

"I am human, nothing you say can make it otherwise". He tried to sound firm, but his voice was rough and choked by the thought of his angelic form.

"You sound so determined, so resolute". Her eyes narrowed as she examined him. "Humanity is a cage that keeps you Castiel… Do you really wish to die so soon and be forgotten?"

Castiel swallowed heavily. "Even great Kings of men are forgotten eventually. And angels are never really known to be remembered. We are just dust in the end… all of us".

"Then maybe the trick is not to end".

"Everything ends". Castiel stated solemnly. Then he found some strength for his voice and added. "I say again, release me or leave me be".

She reached for Castiel's hand faster than he could draw it away. Then Ursula closed her eyes and a strange calm descended on the former angel. "Let me see…"

A frown creased her features, as if trying to fathom a great mystery. "It is not for me to release you. That fate lies with another… but if you are released Castiel there is much pain and sorrow on the path before you. I would not walk it, there are few who could". She opened her eyes, and searched Castiel's with a note of sadness that soon hardened. "Nor can I leave you be. You are just what I need; the children will dearly love to see an angel".

That confused Castiel, but he was finding it hard to think through the calming fog. Conversation continued around him, it was hard to keep track, and eventually he drifted away.

"I'll take this one as well. He will be perfect for my harvest".

"The Woodsie Lord would not like for you to take his little birdsie…"

"He will get his little bird back, just like the others. He knows I only borrow them…"

"But that is his special shining one".

"I have given him much, and he gives in return. He will give what I ask, special and shining or not. Now why don't you…"

-oOo-

When the fog cleared Castiel's mind he found he was chained to a stake in the ground. Cold hard manacles were clamped around his wrists, he gave a pull at them but the powerful hum of magic in return told him they would not be easily removed. Castiel took a look around; he had been moved to a clearing, a few cages and another stake held more prisoners. Brightly coloured signs proclaimed a show of sights to be seen. Now it made more sense… she was luring people here, luring _children_ here.

Ursula stood before the other tethered creature, it was one of the hunter's savage horses. She held up a hand and slowly fire spread along its mane and tail. When it pawed and snorted a stream of flame licked the air. "There we are, a Nightmare. Not that you weren't impressive enough already my dear, but the humans expect a little more 'razzle dazzle' shall we say…"

She patted the horse's neck and turned to Castiel. He shrank away as far as his chains would let him. "Your turn now my little angel… I'm sorry to say that you don't look like much of an angel, despite what lies beneath. We must do something about that".

Again she held her hands up "We need wings they can see".

Castiel felt the magic of a glamour wind around him. At first a faint outline appeared at his back, then the former angel gave a sharp intake of air as feathers solidified around him. They weren't his, they were white and pure like the angels in old renaissance paintings, but they brought tears to his eyes all the same. Castiel knew the wings weren't real but he still tried to flex them with muscles he no longer had. Of course they didn't move. He got to his feet and they fluttered with him. The wings seemed to move of their own accord, but they mirrored the former angel and felt so genuine it hurt.

"There's my angel. Of course you would have to put fake wings on a real angel for people to see it… humans are so dull".

Castiel turned his tear filled eyes to the witch. "But I am no angel".

The witch made to leave, but she suddenly held back, as if sensing an opportunity to twist the knife she had Castiel impaled upon. "And why is that?" She fixed him with a glare. "Why did you fall?"

The former angel recalled the moment his Lucifer tainted grace was removed at Dean's command. "I didn't have a choice".

"We always have choices Castiel. We are all where we are because of choices… Look back and you will find it".

He had no choice. Castiel realised his grace had to be removed. Lucifer had dug his claws into it and the core of his being was rotting away. The wings at his back festered and fell to pieces. But how had Lucifer come to infect him? Because Castiel had taken on Sam's madness. And why did Sam suffer? Because Castiel had broken his wall… because Castiel was bad… because Castiel dealt with demons and made the wrong choices.

Ursula was picking at that fragile forgiveness he had only just found. The chains restraining Castiel were heavy. He started to entertain the thought that he deserved them… He was a monster that should be caged, a monster that belonged in purgatory.

The stricken stare on Castiel's face told Ursula all she needed to know… He had found the root of his downfall. "Think on that angel".

With a smug smile she turned to leave.

Castiel grabbed at one of the fake wings, holding it, feeling the delicate feathers between his fingers. "I'm not an angel…" He whispered quietly to himself.

-oOo-

As the sun lowered in the sky Castiel tried his hardest to break free. Whether he deserved to be chained or not Dean was still a thrall of the Hunt. He did not deserve that. The manacles wouldn't give, so Castiel dug out the stump he was tethered to, only to find it replaced even deeper the moment he got it out. The former angel let out a shout of frustration. The false wings at his back fluttered maniacally throughout his efforts, and spread wide as he yelled to the twilight air. Night fell and torches lit up the clearing, lighting seemingly of their own accord. The wings were an annoyance now. Shifting and so real, but not his… not his sleek black feathered limbs. He hated these fake ones, reminders of what he was and would never be again. In his frustration Castiel had pulled at them, tearing out feathers and casting them to the skies. But they grew back as soon as the former angel grabbed another handful.

Through all of the struggling and frustration a fire started to build in Castiel's heart. The fight to get to Dean had put the hunter firmly at the front of his mind. Dean had forgiven him, he had forgiven himself and now this witch sought to tear it all down. He wouldn't allow it. The first time Castiel saw Dean's soul he had been torturing in hell. A bright shining thing twisted and made ugly. Still, he gripped Dean tight and raised him from perdition. Dean struggled with what he had done, but he moved forwards, saving people and hunting things. Castiel might have been a monster, but he was going to make the right choices now. He was going to earn his redemption, he was going to stop Ursula, and he was going to save Dean. But first he had to get free, and that was proving a problem…

Falling to his knees Castiel slumped and turned back to lean against the stump he was tethered to. Then he held his breath, eyes wide with surprise. A young couple stood there. His arm was wrapped intimately around her waist… they were lovers then. He whispered something into her ear and she smiled, eyes lit up at the sight of an angel.

Castiel jumped to his feet. "You have to get out of here. The woman is not who she seems, she means to harm you. Turn and run as fast as you can, go! Please leave!"

He couldn't understand why they stood there still. Had they been struck dumb by the glory of an 'angel'? Then the answer came with the woman's gentle voice…

"I wonder what he's saying…"

Ursula appeared at their backs, like a ghost out of the mist. "Like all angels he speaks Enochian. Few mortals are granted knowledge of their tongue".

Of course she would make sure Castiel couldn't warn them…

Stepping forward Ursula put on a show woman's dance, arms aloft, full of mysticism and lies. "And so here we have our angel. His name is too elaborate for our base language to comprehend. He was cast down from Heaven for punishment and fate has entrusted him to my hands. It is a hard lesson in life that not all angels are good. Come now, next I have a Nightmare to show you, a demon horse of the underworld!"

The couple were ushered on by the witch, Castiel followed with angry eyes until they were out of his sight. In the quiet that followed he struggled once again in vain. It felt good to be doing something, trying if not succeeding. Then some time later Ursula reappeared and came striding towards Castiel. He quickly ceased his struggles and stood to meet her defiantly.

"You can shout at them all you like little angel, they will not understand a word you say". There was a hint of amusement in her voice.

"What have you done with them? You have me, let them go". Castiel stepped forward, though the chains held him back. He tried to be strong in facing her. And in coming closer Castiel noticed the witch appeared younger, the lines had gone from her face.

"You are already serving your purpose Castiel. They have served theirs".

"What did you do to them?" He was already putting two and two together, and then the witch confirmed it.

"I think you already know… I am taking their life essence to extend my own. One has to keep their youthful good looks somehow". She mockingly caressed her own cheek. "Give me any more trouble Castiel and I will steal your life too. Though there is not much left, fallen as you are… it is why I prefer the children, they have many years for me to store away".

"Stop this". Castiel growled.

She just laughed. "I have been here hundreds of years and had many harvests, why would I stop because you tell me to?

"When I am free – and you told me yourself I would be freed – I will come for you and end this".

"I told you of a possibility little angel. If I killed you now it would never come to pass. All I know is that it is not my fate to free you if freedom is your fate".

"Fate and destiny mean nothing, we made sure of that". Castiel strained at the end of his chains.

"Ah yes, the apocalypse that never was, your tearing up of the rule book… Somebody can always write a new one you know". She stood frustratingly just out of reach, demeanour calm as ice, ignoring Castiel's rising ire.

"And we will tear that up too!" He spat at her.

"Calm down, or your now fragile heart might give out". She spoke with a derisive smirk. "I have more visitors to attend to, if you'll excuse me…"

Sure enough Castiel watched more people approach the clearing, walking unknowingly to their deaths. Anger left his heart for sorrow. Seeing the delight on their faces and knowing the end they would meet.

"Why do they come? After so many harvests the people of this place must know…" He spoke quietly, the chains lax now he had backed off.

"They know, and they are complicit. In a place as old and insular as this respect for me has passed down the generations. They even bring me gifts hoping for protection. The ones I take are newcomers and tourists, they come here for entertainment and so I will give it to them". She smiled coyly as she turned her back and approached her prey.

Castiel sat down heavily. He desperately tried to think of a way to stop Ursula as she showed her latest visitors around. The former angel glared angrily when they approached, and the people kept their distance. He embodied the wayward dangerous celestial in the witch's peddled spiel. She repeated it for them, adding embellishments, telling them what a wicked perilous creature he was. When they moved on her stories became larger and more terrible, the poor people's gasps of awe filtered across the clearing to Castiel. Then he started at seeing a couple of children emerge from the undergrowth and make a beeline for him. He held up his arms and shook his head but they kept coming. The first was a little girl, as she stood before him her eyes shone with wonder. She couldn't have been any older than six or seven, with warm brown eyes and long brown hair to match. The boy following close behind her was some years older with similar features. They looked to be brother and sister, he slung a protective arm over her shoulder as if stating the fact.

Castiel jumped to his feet with a strangled sound as he desperately wondered how to warn them off and do so before the witch noticed their presence.

The boy spoke quietly to his sister. "Ok, you've seen him, now can we go?"

"Not yet". She pushed his arm away and stepped forward. Castiel knelt before the little girl, his winged form reflected in her eyes.

"Dad would kill us if he knew we were here. He forbid us from coming. Let's go". The boy hissed but was met with silence.

Instead the girl spoke directly to Castiel. Her voice was a soft and gentle whisper. "I prayed when my mum was sick. The doctors said they couldn't do anything else, so I prayed. She always told me angels were watching us, were you watching? Did you hear me?"

Castiel wasn't sure what to say. Even if he could say something she wouldn't understand it. Despite this he tried. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you… you should not put your trust in angels". He looked up to her brother. "You should put your trust in family".

"What language is that? What is he saying?" The boy's nose wrinkled in confusion.

"My mum died, but I don't blame you… my dad said you needed her for Heaven. She had a beautiful voice, she used to sing to me at bedtime. I'm sure you enjoy it too".

Tears threatened Castiel's eyes at hearing the girl speak. He needed to get her out of here, but he couldn't say a single word to her…

"You're sad…" She raised a delicate hand to his cheek and wiped away a lonely tear. Castiel leaned into her touch and the wings at his back reacted to hood around them. "I think that lady lied. I heard what she said, I don't think you're bad".

Castiel shot back then, an idea suddenly striking him. He turned to the earth at his tether. The grass was long gone thanks to his earlier scrabblings, and the earth was loose. With a finger Castiel quickly traced words. "She is evil. Go now". He looked to the girl with earnest eyes and motioned her over. The boy followed and read carefully.

"Lucy, we have go". Castiel immediately recognised the protective older brother going into action. The boy grabbed his sister's arm and pulled her to her feet.

"Wait, what's your name?" She held back and looked to Castiel as if his answer was more important than her own life.

The former angel gave a small smile before tracing "Castiel" into the dirt.

She smiled back. "Thank you Castiel". But before they left she looked across at others entering the clearing. "What about them?!"

"I have to get you out of here. I'll come back to warn them". Here was clearly a hero in the making.

He grabbed his sister and pulled her away, but before they made it Lucy yelled out. "Run! She's evil! Get away from her!"

Ursula strode over to see what the commotion was about. Lucy and her brother turned tail to run, and the young girls that had just come in backed off again. The witch's little crowd dispersed as she headed for the fleeing children. They ignored her angry shouts for them to stay put and made a hasty exit. As Ursula passed by in her pursuit Castiel rushed forwards, he slammed his body into the witch, trying to slow her down. They tumbled towards the ground, Ursula ended up on top of Castiel, hand clamped about his throat. The fake wings were spread out to either side of him; they twitched weakly and flickered out.

"You think you can stop me Castiel you feeble thing? Too weak to fight for who you are!" A wild look had taken the witch. It was as if she was unravelling at the seams.

"I am no shadow, taking of other's light to extend my own meaningless life!" The former angel might have been ensnared by her sorcery, but he could still choke out his dangerous words. "I have been a saint and a sinner, a soldier and betrayer. I know who I am. _I am Castiel_".

He took hold of her arms then and worked to pry off her grip.

She just laughed. "So there is some fire in you after all! But I make good on my promises Castiel. Your life is mine".

The witch opened her mouth wide and ice ran through the former angel's veins. Ursula straddled his body and Castiel bucked helplessly beneath her, resistant to the last. His movements stilled as the cold spread, numbing his limbs. Eventually Castiel's arms dropped to the ground, his head fell back, jaw lolling open. She bent down to take his lips with her own and a soft glow lit up the former angel's chest. It filtered towards his mouth and across to the witch. But at her first taste she recoiled as if shocked and sat up. Her eyes were wide and aflame with a light that wasn't her own.

"No… no…" She gasped at the air as if drowning.

Castiel started to come out of his daze, he looked up at her, puzzled. But before he had a chance to gather himself and try to push the witch away her chest burst open. Blood and gore spattered over Castiel. The ice and magic abruptly fell from around the former angel and he looked up in horror at the witch astride him. Her face was set in a shocked expression, a mess of roots protruding through the place where her heart should be. They retracted with a messy wet sound and Ursula's eyes dropped to Castiel.

"Something… bright in you… still". Her bloody lips echoed her earlier words before Ursula fell to one side, dead.

"Nasty witcher woman should not have taken little birdsie, he be mine to keeps. Not hers. _Mine_". The strange keeper stood beside Castiel, reaching down to break his chains from the tether. As terrible as she was she had just saved his life, and he couldn't help but be relieved to see her.

The keeper hauled Castiel to his feet, wrapping vines tight around his arms and pulling on the chains to get him moving. "The Woodsie One will want his shining one back. He is not for nasty witcher woman". She spat on the witch's body as she passed by, pulling Castiel along with her. They left the sick scent of earth and blood behind.

-oOo-

While Castiel endured his captivity Dean was a captive of another kind. Tied to the will of the Master, he cared only for the hunt and nothing else. His mind was a blank slate to be written on with the blood of their prey. There was some primal instinctual part of Dean that intensified under the influence of the Hunt. It was the natural hunter in him, but magnified until it encompassed the entirety of his self. This was a Dean Winchester that would give demons nightmares.

When the hunting horn blew he mounted his horse. The drums started beating, mirroring the pounding of blood through his veins. And he was consumed. The Hunt set out and Dean was swept away with the chaotic clamour of thundering hooves, howling creatures and raging winds. They moved as one, directed by a single intent, seeking their prey. The first had been a drunk, stumbling home along a darkened road. He was no challenge to cut down and that left Dean unsatisfied. The second gave them more sport. He thought he could escape by taking to his car. The Hunt galloped after, Dean's every nerve felt electrified, this is what he lived for. With every step they took the ground shook, and it resounded through Dean, riding high on the energy of the horse beneath him. It was a beast made to run, and it did so with an explosion of power that seemed to leave time behind… If you have never run with a horse you have never been free.

But Dean wasn't free, not really. He was given the illusion of freedom while bound to the will of another. The Hunt dropped back, allowing their prey to think he was safe. The man slowed his car, frantically searching his mirrors, breathing a sigh of relief at seeing only darkness… a road at night. Then he made the mistake of stopping. He sat silently, trying to get his breath and heart under control. Shaking hands gripped the wheel as he stared through his windscreen. The car's headlights lit up a short section of road ahead, but night concealed all else. Their nameless victim began to think he was going mad. Then he heard the clatter of hooves on concrete… He raised his eyes to the rear view mirror, seeing sparks strike off the road. But before he managed to get the car in gear they were upon him. Three riders… two came alongside, the other took to the air at the back of his car. He yelled at the crunch as it landed on his bonnet, the car crumpled in beneath their weight, then the horse stepped down to the road. The rider turned his horse about to face the car, it reared in the glare of the headlights. He started shaking again and blanched at the sight before him. A horned helmed rider sat upon a horse that seemed more of a beast. It had matted black hair that appeared to seep with black blood. Glowing red coals served as eyes, and it gave otherworldly groans and roars as the rider held it back. He met the rider's ice blue stare with trepidation. That unwavering gaze told him this was it, and his attention fell to the lance held tightly in the rider's hand…

With his brothers Gordon and Tala at his side Dean leapt over the car and crashed down on its bonnet. Their prey had no means of escape now. The vehicle was crippled, he had a huntsman to either side, and Dean stood ahead. The horse beneath him was a coiled spring waiting to lash out, he wanted blood just as Dean did. So staring into the man's soul Dean raised his lance and threw it forwards. The windscreen shattered and glass sprayed the air as his weapon embedded in their quarry's chest, impaling him to the seat of the car he took refuge in. A great cry of victory came from the Hunt as they emerged from the shadows. Smaller beasts pushed forwards, swarming around the car, breaking in to lap at the pooling blood. They scattered as Dean walked forwards and reached in to retrieve his lance. The taste of victory was sweet on his tongue. Blood ran down from the tip of the lance to stain Dean's hand. He looked at it coldly, this is what he lived for, the blood of his enemies… this was his ecstasy. Dean looked up to the Master of the Hunt who watched proceedings with an air of appreciation. There was only one thing to fathom from Dean's stare… _bring me another neck to hew_.

After riding these lands the Hunt moved on from Knaresborough. It seemed there had been an incident with the witch their Master dealt with… but Dean cared little for such matters. He only cared for the next hunt. So their rampage continued. Dean worked most closely with Gordon and Tala. Their hunting skills surpassed all others and it seemed to please the Master to see them at work. Dean and Gordon's shared background seemed to lend itself to their fluidity in working together, although neither could really remember much of the other. As for Tala, Dean could tell he was more than human, he didn't know what he was, but it didn't really matter… Tala seemed another favourite of the Master and the three fit together like pieces of a puzzle. They were Dean's brothers; he had forgotten he ever had another family…

The Hunt moved locations frequently. Sometimes they were summoned by a spell to hunt down prey marked for them… but mostly they followed the will of the Master, cutting men down and taking souls on his orders. They were quiet at the encampment when not riding out. Whether eating together or whetting blades every man did so with an intense focus, each just waiting for the next hunt, as if they were enduring their existence until then. The Master had told Dean to keep away from his caged creatures, his prizes. But passing by was unavoidable at times. And he noticed the eyes of the fallen angel following him. It called out to him once, and the next time he saw the angel it was bruised and bloodied on the floor of its cage.

Sometimes the Master had them capture prey instead of kill it. He seemed to like some sport in the camp and would imprison certain worthy victims. They would be taken from their cages later and made to fight each other. The victor could join the Hunt or be killed. If they refused to fight then both would meet their end. So the Master found it particularly entertaining if the two were connected… father against son, brother against brother… who would sacrifice themselves and who would give in to their slaughterous instinct? The Master found joy in such cruelty.

Dean was escorting one such prisoner to the cages; they had been hunting a group of friends and taken two for a fight. The hunt had largely been knife work; the group had taken shelter in a hollow where the horses couldn't follow and so Dean had dismounted to take them apart with his blade. Their blood painted a scarlet motif across Dean's face and down his front... There was no escaping the hunt. As Dean brought his prisoner over to a cage the Keeper scampered over to unlock the door. The man was little more than a boy, a teenager with a loud mouth. He kept begging for his life, but Dean was deaf to his pleas and roughly shoved the boy inside. Dean turned to leave as the Keeper locked up… but he found himself staring into a pair of blue eyes. They watched from behind the bars of the cage across.

"_Dean_". The angel hissed his name as if he were afraid.

He knew he shouldn't really approach, but Dean found himself walking over to the angel anyway.

"You watch me". It was an observation more than an accusation.

The angel looked over Dean, eyes seeming troubled by the blood down his front.

"Yes… you know me, though you don't remember".

"You are one of the Master's captured creatures, nothing more".

"No Dean, you _know_ me. We have fought side by side, we were like brothers. I raised you from perdition. There is a scar on your arm, it is _mine_". The angel spoke in hushed tones as if wary of being discovered. His eyes seemed to plead with Dean to remember… but Dean knew nothing. Then he saw the flash of a barn… lightning… wings.

The Keeper scurried over to them, interrupting with urgency. "You stay away from little birdsie. You are not meant to talker to him!"

But Dean stood there still and the angel continued. The Keeper left and he started talking faster, as if trying to get out as much as he could while he had the chance.

"You were born to John and Mary Winchester and your brother is Sam. You're both hunters, you hunt supernatural creatures. Demons killed your parents but you got your revenge. You went to hell, you started the apocalypse, and I helped you end it".

The angel paused, seeing if anything was sinking in. Dean just stared at him coldly. "You had a family for a time, Lisa and Ben. But we're your family, Sam and me… Sam means everything to you. You went to hell to save him. You have to remember him! Please Dean, you don't belong here, you have to believe me…"

Heavy footsteps approached then, and a voice filled with danger spoke. "Leave".

Dean turned to meet the Master's eyes, but they were fixed firmly on the angel, so he just obeyed, feet taking him elsewhere. The sound of raised voices and blows followed as he retreated. But the angel was soon forgotten as he joined his brothers and they spoke of their return to purgatory…

-oOo-

_I want to feel the pain and the bitter taste  
Of the blood on my lips, again_

As Sam reached for another glass of demon blood he kept a mantra running through his mind… This is for Dean. I'm doing it _for Dean_… He believed it at first, but now strength was flooding through his limbs and power electrified his heart. Sam realised he missed this feeling. He felt confident, absolute. Nothing could stand against him.

After draining his last drops of blood Sam set the glass down on the table in front of him. He concentrated his mind on it, each transparent red stained surface down to the atoms. Then he reached out with a thread of power and willed those atoms apart. The glass shattered. Sam held up an arm to shield his face from the spray of glass. When he lowered it he found nothing left but shards and dust.

Sam allowed himself a small smirk before leaving the table and making his way to the cabin's basement. His footsteps were heavy on the stairs. They creaked in protest, and the table down there groaned as Sam easily pushed it aside. He reached a hand into his pocket and placed the amulet on the now clear floor. Sam wasted no time on sentiment, to him it no longer had meaning or significance; it was a tool, a means to an end. Then taking a knife he slit his arm open and set to marking the ground with blood. He daubed three triangles spaced evenly around the amulet, each with a point directed at the trinket. Around them went a circle, and around that he started painting symbols and sigils.

It would not be long now… this would work. He was sure of it. He would save Dean and Castiel, and then imagine what he could do with this power. As Sam's wet fingers slid over the floor his mind was given over to ambition. He could scour this world of demons; he could break them apart as easily as that shattered glass. The path of good intentions was firmly at his feet again.

Note: Fun fact - there actually is a Cass Lane in Knaresborough! Some time ago I started researching Knaresborough's Mother Shipton legend for another SPN fic (which I've used here instead), I decided to have a look at the place on Google maps, zoomed in, and the first place I saw was "Cass Lane" XD It was fate, I had to use it! Although, as we all know, it should be "Cas Lane" ;)


	6. Run Boy Run

Note: Quotes here are from another of Woodkid's songs "Run Boy Run", with another awesome vid you all must watch :D (Stick watch?v=lmc21V-zBq0 on a YouTube URL)

**The Hunter and the Hunted**

**Chapter 6 – Run Boy Run**

_Run Boy Run! This world is not made for you_

When Castiel woke it was to the fetid air of purgatory. The last thing he remembered was being struck down by the Keeper after he started shouting and kicking at the bars of his cage. They were returning to purgatory and he wasn't going to go back quietly. Castiel managed to break one of her tree like limbs. She shrieked in pain but came at him with three more. Eventually the former angel had fallen against her onslaught… and now here they were. His protest had done nothing. But that couldn't dampen the fire that had kindled in his heart. Castiel might have been knocked down but he would get up again, and he would keep rising after every blow until they were free. He felt he was so close to getting through to Dean… then the Master of the Hunt intervened, and Castiel paid dearly for it.

The former angel got to his feet and scowled at the familiar stark landscape… once again he was surrounded by a land of grey mist and dead trees reaching their twisted limbs to an indifferent sky. His bruises ached and his head hurt. Still Castiel half heartedly kicked at the bars. It was a futile protest, an expression of frustration… He stilled as the Keeper approached. She went to the winged lion's cage and unlocked it; a couple of huntsmen then led the beast away. With his curiosity stoked the former angel watched as she unlocked the cage containing the humans they had hunted earlier. Castiel listened carefully to her gleeful mutterings.

"Hunter comers for you man fool, he takers you to battle. Your fleshes will breaks and bleeds, you will no more see sun or sky". Her rasping speech still made Castiel's skin crawl.

Again, huntsmen came to take two of them away. So they were to fight… though it would be no fight, it would be a slaughter. The men stood no chance against that creature. Then an idea came to Castiel. He pressed himself against the bars and shouted out to the Keeper.

"Let me fight!" She looked up at him with her sickly amber eyes. "You tell him I will fight, and if I win I get to leave with Dean".

She smiled then, a cracked ruined thing on such a face. "You are a brave one making an offering of your manfoolsy flesh. Maybe he will drinker a sippings of little birdsie blood, but not now. He will comer for you when he will".

Again Castiel kicked the bars of his cage as she scampered after the prisoners. Then turning his back on them he slid down to sit upon the floor and bide his time. The Keeper would be back, maybe even the Master would come, and he would keep on pushing at them until they gave in. Eventually the sounds of roaring crowds and creatures filtered through the trees. One of the small glowing, winding lights lazily wandered past Castiel's cage. He tried to focus on its gentle chiming sound and block out the screams that were to come…

With his head in his hands and the clashing blast of violence assaulting his ears it took Castiel a moment to realise the small rattling nearby was somebody unlocking his cage.

"_Castiel_". A voice hissed, and his head whipped up.

There was a woman, with key in hand, working to free him. She had the look of a Native American, her hair was long, black and unruly. The clothes she wore were old and little more than scraps, any colour was long faded and encrusted with mud. There was an air of neglect around her… but this place dragged them all down eventually. Frantically she worked the lock and threw the door open.

"Castiel, we must go". She held a hand out to him.

Slowly he got to his feet; despite freedom beckoning him on Castiel couldn't help feeling suspicious. "Who are you? How do you know me?"

"You don't recognise me? Of course you don't…" She stepped forwards and reached out to him then.

Castiel fought the instinct to step back and stood firm instead. As the strange woman approached his mind flashed back to Meg pushing forwards and taking his lips. A moment of confusion… was she doing the same? She came close and put her arms around the former angel, bringing her mouth to his ear and tracing the wolf inflicted scar on his back with disturbing accuracy. "I am Voxifera".

He pulled away and looked at her face. There was no sign of the wolf that had led them through these lands. Her dark brown eyes held no resemblance to the intently focussed yellow gaze he was used to. "I had to come to you in this form, they won't recognise me like this. Now come, they are watching the fight but it won't last long, we must hurry".

Voxifera grabbed his wrist and pulled him none too gently to the door. But Castiel dug his heels in. "Wait, we have to get Dean".

"We will come back for Dean, the Hunt has him now, he will not leave with us. Come on". She pulled at Castiel again, eyes shining with desperation.

"I will not leave him alone!"

She brought both hands to his face, gently, sadly, she met his eyes. "It must be nice, to be so loved… but you can do nothing for him now. If they find us, they will kill us. We must go".

Still Castiel hesitated. "Please, I have to try… I can get through to him".

"_Now_ is not the time". Her words became stronger, harsher. Voxifera grabbed the front of his shirt and spun him round to the door with a strength that belied her now small frame. She pushed Castiel through it and he fell to his hands and knees under the momentum.

Voxifera followed him out and grabbed Castiel's wrist, hauling him to his feet and leading him away. His steps were reluctant at first, but he gave in and followed the skinwalker. They would be back for Dean; he would make sure of it. As they cleared the cages and started getting deeper into the trees the former angel noticed the twisted, broken remains of the Keeper. It was easy to miss amongst the roots, her barken body merged with them seamlessly. Her throat was cracked open and glistening yellow sap like fluid oozed across the forest floor. Castiel could imagine the savagery that had torn her so, and that it came from this now slight seeming maiden underscored the fact she was more than she seemed.

When they had gone beyond the Hunt's encampment, far enough that stealth and quiet could be dispensed with, Castiel and Voxifera ran. They ran far and fast. Voxifera pulled out ahead, never missing a step. But the former angel tired more easily, he dropped back and became more unsteady with each heaving breath. When Castiel crashed to the ground, Voxifera decided they could ease off and rest. They took to a hollow embedded in a great tree's roots. The roots looked dead and cold, it felt like being ensnared by a skeleton, but it obscured them from sight well enough.

Voxifera rubbed at her arms and shifted around, she was obviously uncomfortable in human form. It was something Castiel could sympathise with. He remembered the moment he took his vessel… no, not vessel, _Jimmy_, it was a person he took, a person with a family and life of his own… something else to feel guilty about. Sometimes he wished Jimmy had said no to him. Despite the fact he would never have met Dean everything that came after would never have happened. He would not have laid waste to heaven and earth… but another angel would have been assigned to Dean Winchester in Castiel's place. Maybe things would have happened differently. Maybe things would have been worse. Uriel may have succeeded in turning more angels to Lucifer… The apocalypse might have happened… but Jimmy would be free.

Truthfully Castiel didn't know what had happened to Jimmy. He had always been there, a muted presence in the former angel's mind… Castiel had blocked him from all of the pain and torment he put the poor man's body through. But the connection between them went dead when he fell. A lot of things died when he fell… Castiel hoped Jimmy wasn't trapped in a corner of his mind, half seeing and feeling, or feeling nothing at all. Castiel's senses may now be too dull to detect him if he was there. Jimmy deserved rest, Castiel hoped it had been granted to him.

But the moment he first took Jimmy, the moment he first saw through human eyes… it was indescribable. He saw so much as an angel, all the connections, energy in everything, past, present and future. But Jimmy's eyes gave him more. He didn't see as much but it was beautiful, everything was so intense in its moment. The miracle of his father's world as it was meant to be seen. Night concealed much outside the Novak house, but it still swept Castiel away. He settled into this new form and tried flexing his hand. The angel looked at it with wonder, it was his now. Then the door clicked behind him. "_Daddy?_" Confusion, a puzzled head tilt, and then understanding. "_I am not your father_". Castiel wished he knew back then what he knew now. He would have said something different, offered words of assurance, or comfort. But it was all so new to him, and he was intent on his righteous mission. There was work to be done… and Castiel wondered whether anything he said would really have dulled the pain of him taking her father away.

It was all so new to him. Castiel took a while to feel comfortable in his new skin. Even watching humanity for countless years hadn't prepared him for walking amongst them. There was so much to learn, and he was learning with a little help…

"_Hello Dean"_

"_Geez Cas, back up a little. Okay, I know you're the new kid on the block so I'm going to spell it out for you. We humans have a little thing we like to call 'personal space'. It's this imaginary bubble about the span of our arms that surrounds us, and people get uncomfortable if you get in it without their permission"._

"_Very well. Dean, may I have permission to enter your personal space?"_

"_No, no, no… I don't mean it like that. I mean like… um, only certain people are allowed into your personal space. Friends…"_

"_We are friends are we not?"_

"_Yeah, but close friends, real close friends, see what I'm saying? No… of course you don't… always with the friggin' head tilt. Look Cas, this is my space, that is your space. So lets just keep them separate ok?"_

Castiel had grown accustomed to the human body he had and the unwritten rules they lived by. But just as it seemed he was getting to grips with everything, the angelic part of him was cut away and there was nothing but humanity left. This brought along another set of trials and challenges, and it had its own… discomfort. He was still getting used to it. The routines were easy enough to slip into, shaving, washing, dressing. They were performed like a ritual each morning. But other things were harder to adapt to… the limits on his strength, the crippling power of pain, vulnerability to sickness… and addiction. Often he wanted to jump out of this body, leave it behind and take to the air, but that was no longer an option.

So watching Voxifera fidget, Castiel knew… he knew what it was to feel wrong in your skin.

"Why don't you change back?" He offered.

"I can't… I dare not risk it. We're not out of the woods yet. We are still within their reach and they will come for my wolf scent, they know it". She tried to drop the worried look from her eyes to give Castiel a small smile. "It's just… I haven't been in human form for a long, long time. Claws and teeth are of more use here".

Castiel looked thoughtful for a moment before venturing his question. "Why did you come back for me?"

The last time they had been with Voxifera she had seemed scared of the Hunt. She did not want to be anywhere near them, what had changed her mind?

"I was being ruled by fear, and I regret…" Her smile turned sad as she started again. "There was a time I should have gone back for somebody. I did not want you to face the same fate and I needed to face my fear".

"Who was it you left behind?"

_Thunderous hooves were at their back, there was the blast of a horn, and then arrows split the air. They ran side by side, exhaustion weighing their limbs down, until an arrow sunk into flesh and one fell._

"Tala..." She breathed a sigh as if feeling relief at speaking his name. Whether through longing or guilt Castiel got the impression she had not said it in a long time. "I loved Tala, and the Hunt shot him… the last thing I said to him was that I would find him again. I meant to, I should have tried harder. But the Hunt was relentless in pursuing me. I barely escaped with my life, and when I next saw Tala he rode with them… he did not know me". She pulled up her ragged clothes to reveal a scar running down her side. "He did this to me".

Voxifera looked down to the dirt at their feet and spoke with a small voice. "I was too late again… I am sorry they got Dean".

Realisation dawned on Castiel. "You mean not to return for him?" His voice was quiet and full of disbelief.

"I am sorry".

"But you said we would go back..." Castiel's disbelief turned to anger. He felt betrayed. "I believed you!"

"You would not have come with me otherwise! I had to at least save you… Castiel, you must understand that he is lost. There is nothing you can do".

"No, there has to be something. There is always something". His mind frantically scrabbled through options.

She put a gentle hand to his cheek. "Not this time".

Castiel met her eyes with a hard look. "I will not leave here without him".

"You may not be able to leave here at all".

The former angel looked at her with shock written on his face. He felt as if cold water had just been thrown over him. "So what am I supposed to do? Accept this? Leave Dean to the Hunt and run with you? Do we just keep running and running without end? What life is that?"

"The only afterlife we have here! There is nothing more than running and fighting. This is reality, this is your situation. I only confront you with truth - Escape from here is near impossible, and Dean is lost".

"Dean is not lost. Not while I am still here".

"I wish it were so, I wish it were like the old tales, where bonds of love and friendship could break the strongest shackles of sorcery. But this is the real world, not a story… Love and friendship mean nothing here".

They were interrupted by the blast of a distant horn. Voxifera sprung to her feet. "They are coming; they must have discovered you are missing".

Once again she held a hand out to Castiel and he hesitated. He was entertaining the idea of going out there to confront the Wild Hunt.

"Please Castiel, don't do anything stupid…" It was as if she could read his mind.

The former angel took Voxifera's hand and let her pull him to his feet. Once again they were off.

No matter how fast or far they ran the sound of horns kept getting closer. The Hunt must have caught their trail… and so Voxifera shifted forms. Castiel had expected it to be an agonising process, but she fluidly went from woman to wolf before he could blink twice. It seemed as easy and natural as him shirking off his trench coat. So there was the wolf he knew. She turned her now large head to Castiel and told him to get on her back. The former angel was tiring, and they would be able to move faster if she carried him.

With fists full of black fur Castiel held on for dear life. The forest passed by in a blur. Voxifera sometimes darted in different directions, trying to throw the Wild Hunt off their trail. Castiel almost slipped off a couple of times, so she started taking corners with a bit more care. When she ran all out it was almost like flying, it seemed as close as he was going to get now… the miracle of human flight. Her steps were effortless, but the Hunt seemed to draw closer. It was as if they had caught her scent and were doubling their efforts.

Voxifera headed down a steep incline, it was the first moment her graceful flight through the forest stalled. The wood's detritus slipped beneath her feet and they began to skid down to the bottom. Castiel slid from her back as they fell; he tumbled and winced at hitting rocks embedded in the ground. But there was no time to stop and take stock of injuries. They scrambled to their feet and only paused to look back up the slope. Standing at the top were three horsemen. Dean, the man earlier identified as Gordon, and Castiel guessed the third was Tala. Voxifera had given a whine deep in her throat and stared at him with as much longing as a wolf's face could express. The world seemed to freeze as the three looked down, and two looked up. The air felt too thin to breathe, everything was quiet, not even the wretched hunting horses made a sound. Neither side moved… staring… sizing up. Then Castiel broke the reverie and heaved himself back up on to Voxifera's back. Without a word being said they tore through the forest again, thankfully on flat ground. But the horsemen tackled the slope with little trouble and were close behind.

It was not long before the three advanced on them. Castiel noted one horseman fly past, he knew which one it would be… they had pulled this manoeuvre on him before. He looked to either side, sure enough they were flanked. Dean was ahead, Tala and Gordon rode alongside. Then suddenly Castiel heard the rush of an arrow being loosed. There was a howl and the former angel found himself thrown from the wolf. He hit the dirt and rolled to his knees. Looking back Voxifera was struggling to her feet, arrow protruding from her foreleg. Tala was advancing upon her, but she took the time to look up at Castiel and yell: "Go! Keep running!"

Castiel faltered for only a moment, torn between running and helping her. Tala lazily walked his horse up to his lost love as if he had all the time in the world. "GO!" Voxifera shouted again, and Castiel ran.

Dean was ahead. This was his chance. Castiel ran, seeing snatches of horsemen around him. They were playing with him now; he had no doubt about that. Careening forwards Castiel stopped short, putting up his hands as Dean rode across his path. It was close, but he missed. Too late Castiel realised Gordon was behind him, the horse barged into him and he went sprawling forwards. The former angel scrabbled to his feet, running onward, shouting Dean's name. They kept riding around him, knocking into him. Then blades came out and they started taking slices as they swept by. Castiel tried to evade them as best he could, but his arms chest and cheek ended up scored with angry red lines. They were like cats playing with a mouse. The wounds were not intended to maim and kill, only to hurt and anger. Then suddenly they disappeared.

Castiel stumbled out into a clearing. Dead leaves whirled about his feet as he turned frantically, trying to catch sight of the horsemen he knew were out there. All was quiet once again… and then Dean was there. The world lay undisturbed about him, as if he had appeared from the ether. Slowly, cautiously, Castiel walked forwards. He spoke Dean's name carefully, trying to be unafraid, though he knew the sword in Dean's hand was stained with his own blood. Unarmed and unprotected the former angel was a lamb approaching a lion. But Dean made no move, he just stared with his ice blue eyes. There was an unearthly stillness to him and his horse… the clearing seemed a graveyard with a stone statue keeping vigil.

Then the ground shook and Castiel turned to see Gordon charging at him, lance held high. Dean was a distraction. The former angel knew he should move, but he felt rooted to the spot. There was one thought running through his mind… this was it, this was his end. He would die at Dean's feet and no tears would be shed for his loss. But the footsteps of another echoed through the clearing. Voxifera came charging out from between the trees, with one injured leg she did not move as gracefully as she had done, but she moved fast enough. Her bared teeth were red and her fur was wet with blood. Castiel's heart ached momentarily at realising she must have killed Tala. But there was no time to dwell on such sadness.

Voxifera leapt at Gordon. They met with enough force for his horse to founder and fall. Gordon went with it, trapped beneath his own steed's body. Castiel couldn't see what was happening beyond her great black form and the horse's flailing legs, but the snarls and sounds of tissue rending told him enough. The most disturbing thing was Gordon's silence. He didn't cry out or shout with pain, such was the Hunt's hold on him.

As Voxifera finished and pulled away Gordon's horse managed to gain its feet and take flight into the trees. Its blood streaked sides swept past in a blur. The wolf looked to Castiel and Dean… a savage beast, bloodstained and wild. It was hard to reconcile this image with the woman who had put a gentle hand to his cheek. Then her eyes seemed to widen with horror as she watched Dean. Castiel turned back in time to see him pull a knife out. He pointed its long, cruelly serrated blade at the former angel and drew his arm back.

Castiel raised his hands in a futile placating gesture. "Dean, please, no. Listen to me!"

But it was too late. The knife flew from his grasp. There was a flash of black fur across his vision and Castiel was knocked off his feet. He lay sprawled in the dead leaves for only a moment. Castiel looked to the wolf as he got back up. Voxifera had saved him again. Collapsed to one side she lay gasping with Dean's knife embedded deeply in her side. Castiel rushed over, she fixed him with a yellow eye as he dropped to his knees.

"He's there Castiel. Try your best". Her words were stilted, betraying the effort it took to get them out.

Castiel placed his hand against her face as she had done with him. There was nothing he could do but offer comfort now. "Thank you Voxifera. You led me true… in everything".

Despair flooded the former angel. Perhaps she had been right; perhaps there was no saving Dean, though she encouraged him now… It was the dying hope of a dying wolf. And she was dying by Dean's hand. Castiel feared he would follow soon after. There would be nothing and no one left to stand between them now.

"Maybe… maybe give love and friendship one last chance". A shudder ran through her heaving form as it struggled to keep her going.

"Love and friendship is all I have left…" Right now Castiel would trade it in an instant for his old angel blade.

"Then wield them well. There are no weapons that can cut deeper". Her eyes shut tightly for a moment as she rode a wave of agony. Castiel watched with sad eyes, he was helpless sitting by her side. Voxifera looked back up through yellow slits, her body was failing but she still sought to reassure him. "This isn't the end for me. I only hope I remember you… I hope I remember myself".

As she spoke through the pain there was a hint of fear in Voxifera's voice. Castiel recalled her words about the beasts here, dying to return with a worsening hunger that could never be sated. It made him sad to think she would deteriorate into the savage mindless beast he had seen flashes of. Voxifera was more than that.

"He will remember you". Though he spoke of Tala Castiel didn't know whether the huntsman would die to awake free again, or whether they were eternally a part of the Hunt. He only hoped his words gave comfort. Voxifera's eyes closed, her breathing slowed.

"I will remember you…" Castiel whispered.

The wolf's dark fur stilled beneath Castiel's hand. Regret tore through him, of course anyone who got involved with them would meet their end. It was just the way of the world. They should have refused her help… they should have kept wandering. Though maybe there was relief tinged with regret. Voxifera had faced her fear and found Tala. The running and fighting had finished for now. Even if she came back a little less aware, a little less herself, there was bliss to be had in not knowing what came before… Emmanuel lurched to life at the back of Castiel's mind. He knew nothing of angels or demons, he was an innocent. The name "Dean Winchester" held no meaning, not until that man darkened his doorstep and brought everything back. Now it was Castiel's turn to bring Dean back to himself. He would succeed, or he would die.

The former angel felt ice blue eyes on his back and turned to face Dean. His resolve hardened as he stood facing his friend with fire in his eyes. Again, the clearing was quiet. Deadly silent. Nothing moved, nothing breathed. The alabaster hunter still stood vigil. And then a voice rang out.

"Enough. Finish him". The Master stepped forward, shedding the cover of the trees. "I grow tired of your trouble angel. At least you can provide some sport in your death".

Dean urged his horse forwards.

"Wait! Master of the Hunt, I challenge you to fight. If I win you release your hold on Dean and send us back home. If I lose… I lose".

"No, you will fight Dean. I am bound by no honour code angel. I do not have to accept your challenge, but if I did I would nominate my champion". He pointed a finger at Dean. "One way or another you will fight him".

The Master threw a sword down at Castiel's feet and Dean dismounted. The dead leaves gave a crunch under his feet as he hit the ground.

"I will not fight him". The former angel said firmly. He had wished for a blade moments earlier, but he only wished to defend himself. He would _not_ hurt Dean.

"Pick up the sword. You may not want to fight him, but he will fight you".

Sure enough Dean was advancing, blade held aloft, ready to strike. With no choice Castiel bent to take the sword and stepped back, keeping space between them.

"I will not fight with you". Castiel circled, keeping his distance.

Dean didn't respond, his face was set and he remained expressionless. Then he rushed forward, bringing his sword down to slash at Castiel. The former angel whirled to one side, and the sword flew harmlessly past. Dean came straight back at him, Castiel stepped away, staying just out of reach. Each blow was met with evasion, Dean cut nothing but air.

"_Dean_! I will not fight you!" He said more forcefully. Still there was no response. This brought to mind a dark moment down an alley, when Castiel had been all too eager to fight. He tried to forget the feel of Dean's flesh breaking beneath his fists and concentrate on the fight at hand. The dance around Dean had become more difficult, he came at Castiel more furiously. His steel crept ever closer. Castiel's graceful elusion became more frantic, until a thrust came in and he had to deflect it. The clash of blade upon blade rang out across the clearing, disturbing the otherworldly silence. Dean's sword fell to one side and he followed it, his energy flowed around Castiel, doing no damage.

The weight of the blade in Castiel's hand was a familiar thing. Here was a weapon he knew better than any gun. Humanity might have weakened his strength and endurance but he knew the sword's simple purity. It was an extension of his arm, of his self… it was a weapon that required you to look your enemy in the eye to end him. Castiel did not want to use it against Dean.

And so they went on, with Dean thrusting and slicing, and Castiel turning each attack aside. The dead leaves were swept up by the movement of their feet. No frustration showed on Dean's face. He only fought more fiercely. Eventually it led to Castiel mis-timing his strike. Dean's sword cut towards Castiel's middle, the former angel managed to step away just in time to prevent serious damage, but the blade cut a shallow slice across his stomach. A spray of blood flecked the air and settled on the bed of leaves as Castiel staggered back.

They paused, watching each other intently across the space between them. As his blood stained Dean's sword Castiel came to realise this would only end with one of their deaths… unless he could manage to disarm Dean and restrain him. "Please… listen to me, put your sword down and walk away. Don't make me do this".

Dean answered with a sword strike. Castiel pulled back causing him to miss, but he rushed in the moment Dean's sword flew past. It would have been a simple matter to lead with his sword. He could have buried the point in Dean's vulnerable throat, or under arm. Castiel chose not to. He held his sword out to one side, blocking should Dean recover and bring his blade back on line. Instead he threw himself bodily at Dean. They fell back, but Dean kept his feet. He grabbed Castiel's shirt and swung him around, throwing him to the ground and following with his sword. Castiel rolled, Dean's first cut caught his arm, but he managed to bring his sword up to block the second blow and push back.

As Dean rebounded Castiel took the chance to get to his feet. They circled each other, two warriors, two soldiers. They both came forwards to clash again. Fury met fury. Castiel was not backing off this time, blow met blow, though he was careful not to hurt Dean the hunter had no such qualms. As the fight went on Castiel picked up cuts and slices. Blood ran with his sweat, but he would not give in. Eventually the former angel struck Dean's blade with such force it went flying through the air to hit the ground with a dull thud.

Castiel quickly pointed his sword at Dean's chest. "Yield".

Dean stood staring, and then with the absent minded steps of a sleepwalker he moved forwards until the tip of the sword rested against his chest.

"Dean, _yield_". Castiel said carefully. He would not thrust. He would rather die than push that sword into Dean's chest.

As if he knew Castiel wouldn't go for the kill Dean raised his arm and pushed the tip of the sword away. Then he gripped it further down the blade where it was blunted, and he violently wrenched the sword from Castiel's hands. The former angel took in a harsh breath, his mind reeled at finding himself weaponless. But before he could act Dean's fist came in. The blow caught him across the cheek, Castiel spat blood and staggered back but he reflexively raised an arm to block Dean's next attack. He managed to lessen the force of it, but Dean had size, strength, and more on his side. Castiel was struck again, he barely had time to draw breath before Dean launched another punch. The former angel fell to his knees under the onslaught. His face was getting bloodier and bloodier from Dean's flying fists. They came at him relentlessly, Castiel's senses failed momentarily and Uriel stood there… _There is no will! No wrath! No God!_... Then as Dean flickered back into focus Castiel pulled on his last reserve of strength. With a roar he launched himself upwards and forwards, ploughing into Dean, taking them both to the ground.

Castiel lay on top of Dean, pinning his arms as best he could. "Wake up! Stop fighting me! This isn't you Dean, you're not yourself! _Please_, wake up!"

Dean stilled for a moment, Castiel wondered if he had done it, if he had overpowered the Hunt's hold on Dean…

The former angel couldn't see that he was just working a knife from his belt.

A sudden gale picked up setting dead leaves flying through the clearing. The Master of the Hunt narrowed his eyes as they started whirling around the competitors as if the two were at the eye of a storm…

The once quiet clearing was alive with screaming.

-oOo-

_Run Boy Run! They're dying to stop you_

Sam had been chanting for hours, sitting in one of the triangles painted with his own blood. Night had fallen while it congealed about him, though it lost none of its power. Sam could feel it, sparking through the symbols, sparking through him. It used the amulet and its connection to Dean and Castiel to send threads through purgatory… seeking them out, tracking them down, and fending off others. Burning through interlopers was little trouble for Sam, fuelled by demon blood as he was. They were left broken and ruined in the wake of his path.

Like a magnet Sam felt the amulet's pull towards Dean and Castiel. Two bright pinpoints that burned in his mind. They were found, and they were claimed. But another power reared up, savage and wild…_ They are mine!_... It clashed against Sam's own power, biting into it, clawing deep. Sam railed against this invasive force, but maintaining the link to Dean and Castiel and fighting back was draining him. Sam's heart was beating wildly back in his physical body, his limbs shook, he gave all he had to maintain the connection. He couldn't let them go. But this feral force was working to break them apart, and inch by inch it was succeeding.

It was then that another connection made itself known. A dark familiar force came from the amulet and offered its strength to Sam. At any other time he would have refused, if he was not under attack and in danger of losing his brother he would have cast it aside without a second thought. This force did not name itself, but in his heart of hearts Sam knew it. Just as the amulet called to Dean, and Castiel's grace reached out to the former angel, this power sought to connect with Sam… and there was only one other held within that amulet.

Sam felt the power running through him stutter as the wild one lashed out again. His grip slipped. The connection to Dean and Castiel weakened… In his mind Sam saw Dean's hand fall from his own, and in that moment he accepted the strength on offer. He needed power and power was there. He took it. It coursed through him like a fire consuming all in its path. Sam's own power joined with it, the two as one flared and disintegrated the attacking force. An angry endless shriek echoed as it was torn apart and cast to the air.

The bright ones were enveloped by Sam's burgeoning power. He took them, cradled them, and pulled.

Sam drew in a deep breath as he opened his eyes and his taut muscles relaxed. The power he had reached out with retracted to his core and the ritual died around him. Sam gave a relieved half-sigh half-laugh. There in front of him was Castiel on top of Dean, one pinned beneath the other. It would have looked a compromising position if Dean wasn't holding a knife to Castiel's side. The tip had penetrated his skin, but it had gone no further. The former angel looked shell shocked. Dean looked as if he was waking from a dream.

The knife disintegrated into dust and blew away as Sam watched. The clothes Dean wore did the same. Leather armour faded away to reveal his own clothes beneath. Castiel frantically reached forwards to clutch at Dean's face and check his eyes.

"They're not blue. Thank God, they're not blue!" The former angel collapsed in relief. He embraced Dean while Sam watched in bemusement.

Dean sat up slowly as Castiel slid off to one side and lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling as if he were looking into heaven itself. Sam watched Dean blink himself back to awareness before he piled in for his own hug. Held tight in his brother's arms Dean seemed to come back to himself. Sam felt Dean's arms clap around him and that was the moment he knew it was over. Dean was really back. He was solid in Sam's arms, flesh and blood. It grounded them, that quiet moment of complete solace. Sam smiled, though his eyes were filled with tears. He smiled because he couldn't imagine doing anything else. This relief, this pure happiness, it filled every inch of him… there was no room for anything else.

"Sammy…" That one word fell from Dean's lips, just as it had so many times before. And Sam could hear a thousand things in that one inflection of his name… _you're ok, you're safe, I'm glad, I'm tired, I've been through so much, I've seen so much_… Sam just held him tighter.

"You're ok Dean. I found you".

And then Sam felt another pair of arms around them both. Castiel had removed himself from the floor and joined in. They sat like that in an endless moment just taking comfort from each other's presence. The world seemed as if it was engineered to tear them apart, but they always found their way back to one another again.

Eventually the three broke apart and Sam noticed Dean's eyes were similarly shining with unshed tears. They sat looking at each other, taking each other in, and then the cloak of normality fell down.

"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I could use a burger right about now". If Dean was feeling well enough to ask for a burger, all was right with the world. Sam knew that was him reassuring everyone he was fine in so many words.

"I don't know about a burger, looks like you could do with a shower first…" Sam couldn't help but get a dig in and return them to normal, inch by inch.

As he looked at the two filthy men sat before him Sam noted Castiel was covered in cuts and seeping scratches. "Hey Cas, you're hurt?"

"It's nothing". The former angel insisted he was fine – there was more normality.

Dean reached forwards to pull up Castiel's bloody t-shirt, revealing a long slice across his midriff. "Geez Cas, you look like you got into an argument with a blender".

"An argument with you actually…" He deadpanned in return.

"Wait, I did this?" Dean met the former angel's eyes with disbelief.

Seemingly Castiel realised the can of worms he was working his way into and he immediately back peddled. "It wasn't you… not really. You were under the influence of the Wild Hunt. It couldn't be helped".

Dean paused, taking in Castiel's injuries. "I'm… sorry".

The former angel caught his eyes. "Don't be".

Sam interrupted before their happy reunion could be hijacked by melancholy. "Ok, you two go upstairs and make yourselves comfortable. I'll crack open the first aid kit and patch up Cas, then food. Sound good?"

"Yeah, 'comfortable' sounds great right about now… never thought I'd be comfortable ever again".

Stiffly Dean got to his feet and helped Castiel up. Sam followed the two upstairs and made his way towards the bathroom to wet a cloth. He stared at himself in the mirror, his relieved smile was still there. He almost felt like laughing as he turned the tap a little too enthusiastically and let the water splash everywhere. They were back. They were really back. After everything he had done it had worked… Then Sam thought about all he had done. The blood… the power… He looked down to turn off the tap and wring out the cloth. As he twisted the coarse material between his hands Sam felt the power at his core flare. He gasped and looked up at the mirror… his face was set. Sam tried to smile but his emotionless glare remained. A stab of fear pierced his heart, and then a voice blossomed in his mind.

"Oh Sam, I've missed you boy".

_Lucifer_.

All Sam did was stare.

"What? Nothing to say? Your brother and his angel aren't the only ones you've been reunited with this night. Do I not get a hug?"

"You will get nothing from me"

"And yet you are so happy to take from me. I helped you bring them back; they would not be here if it was not for me. You know this, you opened your arms to take me in and here we are".

"Get out".

"Sorry, I quite like it here". He dropped the cloth and flexed his fist. "In fact I like it so much I'm going to move in permanently. Castiel's grace has provided a nice little power trip but there is part of me still in the cage. Once we are one and whole again the world will be our oyster, and we're going to crush it underfoot".

"I won't let you".

"Of course not. Then smile. Show me what you're going to fight back with. Just twitch the corner of your lips… go on".

Sam's reflection remained stubbornly still.

"I thought so. You can't fight against me Sam, you are me. We are parts of the same whole".

"I am nothing like you! And I took you down before, I will do it again".

"That was an unfortunate blip, a mistake I now know to guard against. There is nothing stopping me, not you… not your brother. I could walk in there and kill them now. But I won't. I told you before Sam, I want you to be happy. That's why I helped you bring them back, that's why I'll let them live. If they can manage to survive the storm to come I will let them be".

"Don't do this".

"Sam, you were _born_ to do this. It was written in the stars. Just be thankful you got to see your brother one last time… even if you won't get to say goodbye. Now, we have work to do".

"Wait! You said you want me to be happy? Then give me a day with him. Please, just a day. That's all I'm asking".

"A day… well I have waited this long, I can wait one day more. See how benevolent I am. The compassion of the devil is something you should be grateful for. Just remember, I will be watching, and if you try anything the result will not be good for you… or them".

The tendrils through Sam's mind retracted, and his reflection smiled back at him. It was a hollow expression, a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Sam took up the cloth and turned his back on the mirror, leaving his rebel reflection behind. He half expected this to happen. Did he really think he could drink demon blood and open himself to such evil without consequence? Some part of him answered… _It got Dean back, it was worth it_… another part of him replied… _I have doomed the world for one day with my brother_.

One day.

He was determined to enjoy it.


	7. A Shot in the Dark

Note: Quotes are from David Guetta's "She Wolf (Falling to Pieces)". Instead of inspiring me, this one I found after I'd written the fic, but it seemed so wonderfully apt I had to include it. The video is awesome: youtube URL and watch?v=PVzljDmoPVs

**The Hunter and the Hunted**

**Chapter 7 – A Shot in the Dark**

_A shot in the dark  
A past lost in space  
Where do I start?  
The past and the chase_

Dean gave Castiel his hand to squeeze as the former angel hissed and winced through his wounds being disinfected and stitched. It was something he would get used to if he wanted to keep hunting with the Winchesters. Dean was quite proud of how neatly he could stitch a wound now. Like a new mother showing off her first piece of knitted baby wear he would brandish his handiwork to anyone nearby. That was usually Sam, and Sam would usually grimace.

Sam was doing the honours while Dean filled him in on their trip to purgatory. He delicately skirted around Castiel's withdrawal but recounted in glorious detail all the creatures they came across and the bloody ways they died. His story only stuttered to a halt on meeting the Hunt.

"And the last thing I remember was that dick's hand on my head. Cas, you're going to have to take over here. Don't spare the detail… please, I need to know".

Castiel looked at him with wary eyes, as if he could warn Dean away with a glance. But this was Dean Winchester, he would not be so easily dissuaded. "Very well… after he claimed you the Master told me to run. The Hunt chased me… you hunted me".

He went on to recall his captivity and rescue, then the final fight with Dean. Castiel truthfully told him he knew nothing of Dean's actions with the Hunt on earth. But he carefully refrained from mentioning seeing Dean with another's blood spattered down his front… He didn't need to add to the weight of the guilt Dean was already labouring under.

The former angel pointed at the bruises blooming across his face. "After you did this I knocked you down. Sam's ritual must have taken us then. The Master tried to stop it… I think Sam defeated him, I heard him scream and die. And I screamed at… it is hard to describe in human terms, the connection, and the hole where my grace used be… burning, pulling, and your knife pushing into my side. I just…"

"I'm glad it's over". Dean finished for him.

The two still had their hands entwined, though Sam had finished cleaning Castiel up and was currently packing away the first aid kit. It seemingly went unnoticed.

"I'm sorry Cas. Will you-"

"It wasn't you, you don't-"

"Dammit Cas, let me just say this ok?" The harsh tone left Dean's voice as he went on. "Whether I knew it or not, I did those things. My sword cut you, my fists bruised your face… I need to be forgiven Cas. Will you forgive me?"

"Of course I forgive you Dean, you didn't need to ask". Castiel looked at Dean with the same expression he used in the barn all those years ago when they first met. A moment of confusion… _What's the matter?_... And then a moment of realisation… _You don't think you deserve to be saved?_ The former angel was clearly trying to understand why Dean needed to be forgiven. And then he found his answer.

"Good… that's good. I forgive you too Cas, you know that? I forgive you for _everything_". He wasn't going to make a list, from the leviathans, to Sam's wall and the drugs. It was all forgiven. "So lets just draw a line here and now. We're going to leave all our crap on the other side of it and let the past be the past ok? There'll be a new start from here on out. Hell it might be a shot in the dark, but we can at least try".

Dean hadn't had a good track record with new starts… Lisa and Ben came to the fore of his mind before he pushed them back down again. Still, he was determined this one would work.

"I would like that". Castiel gave Dean a small smile and squeezed his hand before letting go. It was only then Dean realised their hands had been held the whole time. He was so caught up in his speech it had slipped his notice. Castiel probably didn't realise the significance… that it was just a hand given to ease his pain. Or maybe he did realise and held on to ease another kind of pain. One they both suffered.

Regardless, Dean was glad Sam hadn't witnessed their chick flick moment. He had gone to pack away the first aid kit, and happily he returned with three beers.

The bottles hissed as Sam sat down and removed their tops. "I was just thinking, there are some big lakes around here and I know you used to love fishing. There's nothing to eat in the cabin, so why don't we go catch something? We can run into town and pick some gear up".

Dean turned the idea over in his head. It was true, he did enjoy fishing. He rarely had a chance to enjoy it though. Down time was hard to come by and when they did manage to snatch any Sam would always protest at spending it 'standing on one spot staring at a dirty pond' as he used to put it. Dean was always quick to point out Sam didn't like it because he only caught old boots when their dad taught them to fish. It would be nice to relax at water's edge after the frantic fight for life they had endured in purgatory. On the other hand he would kill for a burger, and if they relied on what they caught there would probably be nothing but boots on the menu.

"Ok, lets do it. On one condition - we grab a burger in town. I don't think we'll be feeding the five thousand with our catch. Certainly not with you on our team". He sent a smirk in Sam's direction.

"That sounds like fighting talk. A beer says I catch more than you do".

"You're on. Get your coat".

Dean's reunion with the Impala was almost as moving as his reunion with Sam. He ran a hand lovingly along her hood and spent long enough checking her over that Sam asked whether he was done groping the car. At least he hadn't douched her up this time. After ensuring Baby was still in one piece Dean got in and started her up. He let out an almost obscene moan as the Impala's engine started purring. Then he eased on to the gas in pure ecstasy and they were away.

It didn't take long for them to acquire their fishing gear (or a burger). Whitefish Montana had a few shops dedicated to fishing with several lakes nearby. They headed for Beaver Lake all the while arguing in the car about who would catch what. It was friendly sibling banter, and Castiel sometimes found himself caught in the crossfire. Dean insisted he would teach the former angel to fish and said that he would end up with a hook stuck in his backside if he listened to Sam. Sam fought back with an anecdote about the time they ended up in the ER with Dean and a hook through his lip after an accident. Their dad had been neither pleased nor amused at his fish impression.

As they set up in a quiet spot by the lake Dean took a moment to sit and appreciate the calm. He closed his eyes and took in the fresh air. There was no scent of blood or decay and bird song filtered through the trees instead of unearthly shrieks and roars. The sound of water lapping at the shore could easily have lulled him to sleep, but then the sound of Sam fumbling through the fishing tackle met his ears. Dean was quick to get his hands off it and set up Sam's rod for him. Then Dean took his own gear over to his seat and started explaining everything to Castiel who stood listening patiently at his shoulder.

Dean picked up a hook and looked out over the lake. With Castiel standing there it was so reminiscent of another time… another dream. _We need to talk_. A few words were exchanged, then a piece of paper, and the soft glow of an angel's presence died from the lake. Perhaps that was the moment things really started to go downhill. Castiel had tried to tip him off and had his ass dragged back to heaven instead. He was back to being a good little soldier after that. If only the angel had managed to tell them… There was no glow over the lake at Castiel's presence now. Instead of a strained urgency the former angel spoke with interest and curiosity. Dean cast off a couple of times and then relinquished his rod and seat to Castiel, he stood watching and offering guidance.

"How are you doing there Sammy? Got any boots yet?" Dean shouted with glee.

"You'll be laughing on the other side of your face when I land Jaws over here!"

Castiel did well for a first timer; he caught a little fish and decided to throw it back. Then he returned the rod to Dean, saying he felt tired and sore. The former angel sat in the grass to watch. Wordlessly he laid back, eyes drifting to the clouds above rather than the pristine surface of the lake. Dean stretched and sat back, rod held firmly in his hands, patiently waiting for a bite. He glanced over at Sam, who was playing with his line, no doubt getting frustrated. Why had he suggested fishing if he hated it so much? It didn't take long for Dean to realise Sam must have proposed fishing to make him happy. He made a mental note to return the favour. They would go to a museum or something else nerdy Sam liked. But for now he was going to relax and enjoy the day, just as Sam had intended.

"It's really good to be back. There's nothing like a visit to another dimension to make you appreciate life's little joys"

Sam looked up at Dean as if wondering what little joys they ever had in their life. "Like what?"

"Sitting here with you… us driving along with Baby and Metallica turned up to eleven… watching the stars in the middle of nowhere. You know, there were no stars in purgatory, I missed them, and you too of course. Our lives might suck most of the time, but we do have our moments".

"Yeah, I guess so. And I missed you too". He looked up with an expression that told Dean he was about to get serious. "I appreciate what you've done for me. I just want you to know that. You practically raised me, and you've always been there… I know I seem ungrateful sometimes. I know you must see me fighting to get out from under your shadow, but it's not like that, not really. No matter what happens you'll always be my big brother, and I wouldn't have it any other way".

"Hey… what's brought this on? Of course I'll always be your big brother. You can't get away from my shadow that easily, even if you do tower over me now. But seriously, I've got your back Sammy, no matter what comes our way. It was always my job to look out for you, and I always will, but I won't be watching over you, I'll be standing at your side. It's us against the world right?"

"I guess I just really missed you. The Impala's far too quiet and empty without you there for starters… and us against the world?" Sam gave a slight laugh. "The world won't know what's hit it".

"And neither will this fish". Dean felt a pull at his line and started reeling it in.

The flopping, thrashing fish landed on the ground at Dean's feet. It was a good size, one they could make a meal of. Dean looked to his brother with a grin. "I believe you owe me a beer".

"Hey, we're not finished yet!" Sam cast his line while Dean saw to his catch and put it on ice

They kept fishing until they had one each for dinner. Both brothers caught a big one, but Sam managed to land a few more little ones than Dean. Of course Dean insisted the little ones didn't count, only the fish they could eat. Looking over his shoulder Dean was tempted to throw Castiel's fish at him. But the former angel was dozing lightly in the grass, and after everything they had been through Dean didn't have the heart to wake him. Instead they started packing everything away, and when it came time to leave Dean gently shook Castiel's shoulder.

Tiredness was also weighing on Dean heavily. He was tempted to hit the hay the moment they got in. But the thrill of being back was keeping him awake. And there was some part of him that feared he would wake in the bleak wasteland of purgatory if he closed his eyes… He almost had to pinch himself continually to make sure this wasn't a cruel dream.

Back at the cabin they prepared their catch and sat down in front of the TV to eat. Sam turned it off and insisted they engage in conversation like civilised people. Dean's beer almost ran out of his nose laughing at that one. Despite having a lot of Dr Sexy to catch up on he relented and they talked. They reminisced for many an hour, continuing long after they had finished their meal. The brothers recalled times from their childhood, both before and after that fateful fire in the nursery. Dean came up with several embarrassing stories about Sam. That was the benefit of being the older brother, he said - he could remember all the hilarious things Sam did… like running around naked, while Sam had no dirt on him. Sam turned red and pretended to protest, he was clearly enjoying their trip down memory lane, and it was good to hear the cabin filled with laughter for once. Sam countered with stories of how he wrecked dates for Dean - there was the benefit in being the little brother. There was the time he hid under the bed when Dean brought a girl back to their motel room. Sam jumped out and scared them just as they were about to lock lips, and then he insisted they all sit and watch cartoons together.

Castiel had stories of his own, he recalled some of Uriel's better jokes… turns out he really was the funniest angel in the garrison. Then he told them of Gabriel's antics in heaven. Apparently he was one for tricks long before he became the Trickster. Eventually they were all laughed out, the food and warmth combined to make them drowsy. Then Dean made a move to clean up, but Sam told him to sit back down and watch TV while he handled it. Dean wasn't going to protest, so he switched the TV on… Sam must have really missed him; he practically snatched the plates out of Dean's hand. And all the while they talked Dean noticed Sam's eyes on him, it was as if he was drinking Dean in, as if he was scared Dean would disappear into the ether. Well, he was back now, and he wasn't going anywhere. They could get back to being a family again, all three of them. Though he fought to watch the TV – it had been so long since he'd seen anything – Dean felt his eyes closing of their own accord. They would flutter open in protest, but they soon closed again, and eventually he drifted off…

When he opened his eyes Dean noticed it was dark outside. The TV had been turned off and there was a head of thick, black hair pressing into the side of his face. It seemed Castiel had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Dean eased himself out from under the former angel and gently shook him awake once again.

"Come on, lets get you to bed". He looked around the room over his shoulder. "I bet Sam's already turned in".

Castiel rolled over with a moan of protest.

"Alright then… stop here, but don't complain when you've got a crick in your neck tomorrow morning". Who was he kidding? They had practically been sleeping on rocks in purgatory, the lumpy old sofa probably felt like the softest feather bed right now.

Dean took off Castiel's shoes and lifted his legs up onto the sofa. Then he piled a couple of cushions under the former angel's head and ferreted out an old blanket to throw over him. Finally he could go to his own bunk.

Shedding his own shoes Dean sat down on the side of his bed and looked over to where Sam should be lying asleep. He wasn't there.

"Sam? Sammy?" No answer.

Dean put his shoes back on and looked around the cabin… there was no sign of him. The remnants of the ritual lay about the basement floor, but there was no Sam. Dean cursed under his breath, had he gone for a walk at this hour? Surely he would have let them know? Dean pushed the door open and strode outside. Baby was right where they had left her… he hadn't gone for a drive. Dean walked around the cabin's perimeter shouting for his brother to no avail. As he made his way back to the door Castiel opened it. The former angel clutched at the blanket wrapped around his shoulders and looked out blearily.

Castiel rubbed sleep from his eyes and blinked at Dean. "I heard you shouting, is there a problem?"

"Yeah, Sam's gone missing, I can't find him". An old frantic, familiar worry was starting to take hold of Dean's heart.

They went back inside, Castiel dropped the blanket and Dean ran a hand over his face. "If he was leaving he would have let us know. And why would he leave? We just got back together! Something must have taken him…"

"Dean, over here". Castiel waved him over to the sink.

Sitting tucked under a plate was a piece of paper with a single word on it: 'Sorry'.

Dean snatched it up. "Sorry? What does he mean 'Sorry'? Has he run out on us? Shit… did the stupid son of a bitch make a deal?"

Dropping the piece of paper Dean shot down to the basement, Castiel following close behind. He circled the symbols on the ground warily, as if it was a snake about to strike at him. The daubed blood had dried long ago, but he wasn't going to risk going too close and getting zapped back to purgatory or summoning a demon or whatever…

"Cas, what do you know about this?" He noticed the former angel had wandered off to one side. "Cas?"

Castiel bent to pick something up, and on seeing what it was Dean rushed over to bat it out of his hand. "Don't touch that! Do you know what that is?"

"Of course I do. It holds echoes of me, and shadows of _him_". Castiel gave Dean a frown and then looked back down to the amulet that had scooted across the floor. "But they are just echoes and shadows…"

He retrieved the amulet and turned it over in his hand. "It is empty now, it is safe".

Castiel held it out to Dean, returning the amulet to its real owner. "Empty? Your grace isn't there? Lucifer's gone?"

"Yes… and with Sam missing I fear what this means". He gave Dean a wide eyed look of alarm.

"You think whatever he did set Lucifer free?" Dean's fist tightly closed on the amulet. It was the conclusion he had come to as well, though every fibre of his being was searching for another answer. He was silently begging for Castiel to come up with something else.

"I believe it is referred to as 'Occam's razor'? Both Sam and the amulet's contents are missing… Lucifer must have taken him, together with whatever remnants of my grace remained". Castiel put a regretful hand to Dean's shoulder. "I would give anything for it to be otherwise, but… I cannot see it".

Dean closed his eyes and felt the amulet dig in to his palm. "Oh Sam… you didn't have to do this. You should have left me down there".

Castiel squeezed his shoulder. "We'll get him back Dean. We'll find him".

-oOo-

_I can't compete with the she-wolf who has brought me to my knees  
What do you see in those yellow eyes?_

Slowly she opened her eyes, the bed of leaves beneath her crunched as her limbs moved and stretched.

Voxifera felt like she had been asleep for far too long. It took her a moment to realise there was a hand in her own, holding on gently but firmly. She looked to her side, seeking the owner of the hand she gripped. And there her eyes met Tala's.

Helplessly she smiled… "I found you".

-oOo-

_The thrill of the kill  
You feel, as a sin_

Although Lucifer had relinquished control Sam could feel him there, a dark presence in the corner of his mind, threatening to overshadow all else. All he could do was lock on to Dean. Take solace in his brother… take these last good memories and store them for the torturous time to come. Sam would run from every neck broken by his hands. Lucifer might delight in the killing and the destruction of humanity, but Sam would hide in memories. He would fish with his brother while Lucifer took the world apart. Unless Lucifer made him watch… unless Lucifer forced him to feel the blood on his hands. He would not be able to endure it, would Lucifer enjoy keeping his cracked broken mind, twisted by sin? The devil said he wanted Sam to be happy, but that was impossible, he would never be happy being ridden by Lucifer… maybe one day Lucifer would tire of making him happy. Maybe he would settle for making him scream.

As Sam washed their plates and listened to the sound of the television in the background his mind stumbled over his last words. What was he going to say to Dean before he left? It had been playing on him the whole day, but only now did he let the thought consume him. How was he going to say goodbye to Dean without saying goodbye?

He took a towel and dried the plates, placing the now clean pots on the side. Then Sam turned to his brother and the former angel. He couldn't help but smile at the sight before him. Both were fast asleep, and Castiel was curled into Dean, head resting on his shoulder. Sam took out his phone and got a picture of them. He wasn't sure what for… Lucifer probably wasn't going to let him browse through the photos on his phone. It just felt like the thing a brother would do.

"_It's time"_ Sam heard at the back of his mind. He went to turn the television off, and then he stood before the sleeping pair. Sam fought with himself over whether to wake them up or not. If he woke them what would he say? Maybe it was better to leave them be… The presence at the back of his mind grew and pushed against his waking consciousness. He didn't have long. He had to say something!

His limbs were growing leaden, but Sam made it back over to the sink. He had managed to grab a piece of paper and a pen. One word made it out before his hand seized up. He only had enough of his own will to tuck the paper safely under a plate, and then Lucifer smothered him. _"Time's up"_.

Sam was reduced to watching through his own eyes as Lucifer strode over to Dean and Castiel. He towered over them, casting a shadow over their slight breathing forms, loose with the comfort of sleep. For a moment Sam feared what Lucifer was going to do. But then the devil's voice rang out through his mind…

"I keep my word Sam. They are safe. I am just giving you one last look at your brother and your friend. One last memory… There is much work ahead of us, I will not lie and tell you it won't be bloody. Our paradise is one that will be wrought through destruction. God had the luxury of a blank canvas, but we must wipe this one clean before we can create our own masterpiece. Do not be disheartened, at the end there will be paradise… a world free of humanity, and Satan saw that it was good".

And then, between one blink and the next, Sam was gone. Trapped in his own mind Sam despaired. He had let the devil in through the back door and now it had taken him over completely. He wasn't naive enough to think being entwined with a monster wouldn't change him. He could try to hide as best he could but there was a creeping corruption that would surely infect him. How could he watch while his own hands took the world apart piece by piece? In the end he would become the monster he was always meant to be…

_The earth rejects me, foul and changed,  
the wind refuses me, unsightly and maimed.  
My voice is corrupted, my tongue unwind,  
my pulse is mercurial sickened, it slows._

_My heart it ceases, my breath undrawn.  
My eyes forever focused on the sanguine metal dawn._

Note: And so we finish on those hauntingly beautiful words from Thief II. Thank you all who have read and reviewed, I hope you enjoyed it :) If you want to know what happens next, the final part of this verse is in progress. I've got three chapters in the bag so far, but it's going to be a long one so I won't try estimating when it'll be done. I did moonlight on a coda to 8x23 (dear God, the feels! Ack!), it'll be going up right after this. Then it's nose back to the angsty grindstone, I promise ;)

Feel free to add me on Twitter/Tumblr, I'm Amynion on both. There's no such thing as too many Supernatural fans on my dash (and once in a while I could use a poke to keep me writing!) :D


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